


It's not that easy being green

by NeverTooOldToBeNerdy



Series: It's Not That Easy Being Green [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, BAMF Melissa McCall, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Derek Uses His Words, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Helpful Deaton, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Oblivious Scott, Protective Derek, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6397963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverTooOldToBeNerdy/pseuds/NeverTooOldToBeNerdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after Gerard and the Kanima have been dealt with. Stiles is recovering, physically, but falling apart emotionally. His relationship with Scott is strained almost to breaking point, he is finding it harder and harder to maintain his crush on Lydia and his Dad is no longer even pretending to believe the constant lies his son is telling him. Something has to break soon, and it looks like it might be Stiles, If only his mom was here, to help him cope. But she's gone, and all Stiles has left of hers is a recipe book, some old photos and the overgrown mess of her once fabulous gardens in the backyard. Maybe he should ask Derek to help weed them for the first time in years? At least that'd be pretty to watch. Except Sourwolf is more likely to bury him in the garden bed than help him with them, after Scott's betrayal and... all Stiles really wants to do is get some sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A cup of tea, a Bex and a good lie down

**Author's Note:**

> OK, hopefully this won't be too glaringly different from my summary (although it already is, sigh)  
> Just try to bear with me - I have a weird brain and like to use punctuation the way other people use chapstick.  
> Apologies for terrible spelling or grammar errors, formatting and punctuation can get sketchy, I'm new to this system so be prepared for weird paragraphs, floating lines and just plain odd stuff. Also since I'm not a US citizen, be prepared for glaring cultural gaffes, odd (to YOU) spelling and occassional (read, frequent) mistakes with a non-metric system that quite frankly makes no sense and why on earth is one of the most advanced countries in the world still using it? Hmmm? (sorry, pet peeve)  
> Oh, and general disclaimer - I own bugger all, let alone the rights to any of this stuff, so even if they did sue, they'd get sadly disappointed.

It was the first day since the whole supernatural nightmare had begun that Stiles was able to sleep in without feeling either guilty or worried.   
Nobody was expecting him to be anywhere. Nobody was messaging or calling in imminent peril. Nobody was bleeding out on his bedroom floor. Nobody was threatening to rip his throat out, or arrest him, or expel him or even be mean to him.

It was Saturday, so there was no school. He had finished his homework the night before so there was no pressure on him to get out of bed at all.   
Even his Dad had already left for his morning shift at the Sherriff’s Office and he’d not only left a note telling Stiles to take it easy, but had even voluntarily taken one of the flatbread, dip and salad boxes Stiles had been experimenting with in his eternal quest to make his Dad’s lunches a little less calorific and greasy.

It was just a little after 8am, the sky was cloudy but not raining and the oppressive heat and humidity which had plagued the city for what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only a month) had finally broken into more seasonally responsible weather. (i.e. cool but not yet freezing)  
So, of course, Stiles couldn’t sleep. 

Gerard’s little presents made that almost impossible, not to mention all the rest of the shit-storm Stiles’ life had become.   
Stiles couldn’t even unclench.

He lay on top of his covers, gently moving his limbs in what an observer would probably describe as a slow motion Stilinski flail, trying with increasing desperation to find a position where he would no longer be putting weight onto his slowly healing wounds, but at the same time be able to release the tension which even Stiles was beginning to realise was probably not good for him.

In his mind’s eye Stiles reviewed the last couple of months. It wasn’t a fun review at all, probably less fun even than Faulkner or Hemmingway.

After his best friend and sometime blood brother Scott McCall had been bitten by a crazy Alpha werewolf on a revenge spree, things had rapidly gone from bad to worse. He had lied so many times to his Dad that he honestly couldn’t even try to figure out the actual number anymore. He had been threatened with torture, death, arrest, expulsion, torture again, more death, actually BEEN tortured and had been about 10 seconds from breathing his last more times than he wanted to even try to work out. He had witnessed murders, maimings, deliberate acts of terror, been knocked unconscious by parts of his own car, and almost been eaten by his best bud (and not in the porno way).  
He had harboured and sexually exploited a fugitive, stolen police property, kidnapped a classmate, carried his abiding crush into a hall while she was unconscious and bleeding.   
He had been both threatened and come onto by the same murdering, bad-touch werewolf and then later been responsible for setting him on fire so his nephew could murder him.   
He had managed to somehow tread water in a freezing pool for two hours while holding up said paralysed man-mountain - a man, or werewolf rather, whose arm he had almost had to saw off with a freaking handsaw!   
He had been kidnapped and almost beaten to death by a cancer ridden septuagenarian, smashed his beloved jeep through a wall to save the life of the douchebag who was the major stumbling block to his plans to woo the fair Lydia, been betrayed and played for a fool by his supposed best friend and finally ended the saga by having to lie about most of it to his Dad... AGAIN!

In fact the only positives to have come out of the whole mess were his epic contribution to the win his lacrosse team had enjoyed (plus his first ever time actually taking to the field during an actual game), being proven ultimately right in practically every part of the whole farrago (not that that really meant anything when everyone still refused to listen to him, despite being proven to be the only person to ever actually seem to know what the fuck was going on at any time). Oh, and the fact that it turned out he had super-awesome powers of magicness and stuff... well... maybe not super-awesome, but Deaton had been very serious (even for him) about the whole “having a spark” thing, and he knew that he had had nowhere near enough mountain ash left in his hand to cover those last few yards around Jungle but somehow, he had made it. The whole thing reeked of awesome.

Stiles gave in on trying to feel comfortable and decided to settle for “not actually in screaming agony” instead. 

It was times like this when he missed his mother’s touch the most. With a soft hand and a calming word she would have been able to ease the pain, relax his tense body and send him off to blessed sleep in under a minute... Five tops. He even missed the mix of floral perfume that she loved to wear and wet, earth smell (petrichor!) that always clung to her, especially when she had come in to his sickbed after working or weeding her precious garden.   
Stiles had tried for weeks after her funeral to maintain the various garden beds she had created around their house, but the combination of grief, time pressures and the whole ‘being a nine year old with ADHD’ thing meant that although nothing had actually died.. much... the gardens were far from their former glory.

Actually... there’s an idea... the lawn out the back would still be cool, with no sun on it until afternoon, but the dew would have evaporated by now, so it would be dry... 

The thought of soft grass, fresh breeze and the scents of his mother’s garden were enough to drag the groaning boy out of bed, down the stairs and out into the back garden; just barely remembering to take his phone with him and lock the back door.  
As he let his battered form sink into the thick, soft lawn between the overgrown and weed-filled former flowerbeds, Stiles could already feel the smells and sounds working their own kind of magic. It was weird, but the grass actually felt softer than his mattress. He had forgotten to bring his pillow, but the ground seemed to be supporting his head at precisely the right angle to let his bruised back finally let go of the memory of his terror and pain. Even the burn scars and whip marks seemed to be less immediate or troublesome, despite his fresh, and still slightly bleeding, scars being pressed against the ground.

From this angle he could see, with his peripheral vision, the remains of his mom’s favourite plants, some of them still surviving, somehow, against all logic or chance underneath the riot of grasses and weeds that had invaded their former sanctuaries.  
“You go little plants!” Stiles mumbled, his eyes already fluttering closed “Don’t let the bastards beat you down!”  
His last thought, as sleep claimed him, was a wordless, inarticulate wish that he could, somehow, against all the odds, emulate those plants, and find a way to flourish in a world that had become so hostile towards him.

Sleep is nice... Three cheers for sleep... Hip Hip H......................  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Derek could not for the life of him work out why he still cared. He should have known better. Idiot!  
The universe continued to remind him of the simple facts.   
Nobody could be trusted. Nobody cared.   
Nobody ever thought about anyone but themselves.   
Nobody ever did anything nice without ulterior motives, hidden agendas or a cunning scheme of betrayal in mind. 

Even his sister, his Alpha, the person who had been the only rock he had to cling to as his life was swept away by his own stupidity and weakness – even she had betrayed him. Laura had left him alone, lied to him. If only she had trusted him enough to share her worries about events in Beacon Hills. If only she had taken him with her. Maybe then she’d still be alive. Perhaps Peter might have killed him instead? He deserved it...still... Faced with Laura’s loss, Peter’s betrayal and madness and the reappearance of... of... Derek had done his best.   
He had tried again, again! 

He had tried to befriend and help the new werewolf, McCall, turned against his will, without even knowledge of the supernatural world, let alone informed consent! He had tried to keep both him and his friend safe and out of the worst of things. He had failed, of course. Even after Peter’s death (and his act of avunculicide had already added itself to his roster of nightmares) and trying to form a new pack he had failed. His first beta had blackmailed him into the bite and then turned into a murdering lizard monster. Isaac was still haunted by his past and had so far to go before he could try to come to terms with his wolf. Erica and Boyd had run away. He could still feel the faint stir of the pack bond, but it was strained and flickering. They were alive, but something was wrong. He wished he had the time, the resources and most of all the support to find out what was going on. Peter, who had been unwilling to stay dead like a reasonable person would, seemed less insane than previously, but he could never be fully trusted even before the fire. Scott had not only pretended to join his pack, but had finally seemed to be grateful for Derek’s advice, which made his betrayal cut even deeper. OK, perhaps he had been plotting against the damned Argent at the same time, but being used as a mindless patsy still hurt Derek to the core. As for Stiles...

Stiles had hurt him most of all. All those conversations, all the times he had saved the boy’s life, the times Stiles had returned the favour...   
Derek had been starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he had found someone he could trust fully. Then Stiles’ best friend had stabbed Derek in the heart. He must have known, those two were inseparable. Also, where had Stiles disappeared to the night Jackson died and came back? Derek had wanted to rail at the boy, but in all the confusion over Lydia saving Jackson and Gerard being bitten and then the revelation of Scott’s betrayal he had lost track of the young chatterbox.

Derek was prepared to just wash his hands of the rest of them, but Stiles needed to hear a few home truths. Hidden from view near the Stilinski home Derek listened for the unmistakeable rabbit-patter of Stiles’ heartbeat.   
It wasn’t there. He must have gone out to celebrate the success of the plan he had given Scott. No way was McCall clever enough to manipulate people so effectively. Stiles might be a damned liar, but he was also cunning and an excellent strategist.   
Deciding to leave a message informing both Stiles and his minion that Derek was no longer foolish enough to trust either of them, and to steer clear of him and Isaac if they valued their skin, Derek leapt from the tree near Stiles’ window and slid it open. He slipped into the room silently, never having been exposed to the neighbours’ view for more than a second.

The room was empty, of course, and... a mess.  
The smell of teenage boy (sweat, lust, hormones, sketchy laundry habits and junk food) was almost overwhelming. Intertwined with the stench was Stiles’ personal scent (bitter medicine, burnt sugar, fresh mown grass and rainclouds) a scent Derek had been starting to actually enjoy.

He could smell blood.

Without thought his eyes flashed red as he assumed his beta form. His nose wrinkled as he spotted the smears of blood on the top sheet of the bed, the used and blood-soaked wound dressings in the almost full waste basket. So many dressings... bandages... Derek spotted a half-used bubble pack of codeine on the table beside the bed.

Closer to the bed Derek could sense more than just the first impressions. He scented sadness and pain. He could smell the tang of anger burning his nostrils and under it...

Despair... Self Hate... Confusion... Shame... Betrayal... Sorrow, deep, deep sorrow and loss... and... Loneliness?

He could also smell Scott’s scent but... so faint... Scott had not been in this room for days, maybe as long as a few weeks.  
The scents told him a very different story to the one in his head.

Stiles hadn’t known.  
Stiles had been betrayed too.  
Stiles hadn’t known.  
Stiles had been lied to as well.  
He hadn’t known.  
Stiles had been...  
He’d been injured sometime in the last 48 hours, badly injured.

A few cuts or bruises might be explained by the championship game, but this much blood... He’d been deliberately beaten. Derek looked closer at the dressings and smelled... burn ointment?   
Stiles had not just been beaten, he had been tortured. Derek was all too familiar with the Argent family and their predilection for electrocution and fire.  
It was further proof that Gerard had not corrupted Stiles as he had Scott.   
Instead he had...Oh... My... God...

So where was he then?

With injuries this severe he wouldn’t have willingly gone far.   
The evidence suggested that he didn’t quite need a hospital, but it must have taken some fast talking to his father to stop the protective man from...  
Did the Sherriff even know? Or... Stiles might have hidden the injuries on his body and told some half-convincing lie about rough and tumble team rivalry or similar... 

Derek knew that Stiles had been feeling worse and worse about the lies he was being forced to tell, the secrets everyone seemed to feel free to just dump on the boy.  
Derek’s heart missed a beat as he thought, just for a second, of how Stiles must have been feeling after the last few months of death and evil and violence.   
His wolf was whining at the thought of a packmate suffering as Stiles must have suffered; not just the torture, but the deception, the chaos, the fear...  
Oh God, Derek thought, I threatened him too. I hurt him. I lied to him. I used him. I let him get hurt.

Where is he? 

Derek closed his eyes and tried to push his senses to the limit even as his heart was beginning to race and his head began pounding.  
He could smell Stiles’ father, he had spent a lot of time in this room over the last 24 hours and the man was worried and angry in equal measure.  
He could...  
He could hear the Sherriff shouting... outside... the backyard!

Flowing through the window, leaving it open behind him, Derek jumped to the ground. His legs flexed as he landed and he was already moving. He managed to reverse his shift as he came around the corner of the house.   
The Sherriff had his phone out, and was standing near a large, low mound of plants which dominated the yard. Derek could see the source of the man’s tension. An enormous rattlesnake was hissing and rattling but not attacking the man standing less than a foot from it.

“Sherriff, don’t move, ok?”

“Who’s there?” Sherriff Stilinski replied, breathlessly. “Wait! Hale?”  
“I’ll try to lead it away from you.”

“Don’t be stupid son, I was on the phone to Melissa when I spotted it, or rather, it spotted me. She’s calling for backup and is on her way here with antivenin. I just have to stand still for a few minutes.”

“I don’t want to be rude sir, but you aren’t looking so good.”

“It’s shock. First thing I knew about it was the rattle, then motion next to my foot. My boot or pants might be enough to stop it from getting a bite through them, but I really don’t want to take the risk. My heart may or may not have skipped a few beats, but never tell my son that. It’s bad enough being guilted to eat like a rabbit to stop him worrying about my cholesterol, I don’t want him to start keeping me in a hutch as well.”

“I’ll try to refrain from bringing the topic up sir.”

“What are you doing in this area anyway? Not that I’m asking in an official capacity of course. I think we’ve done enough to harass you over the last few months. I’m not sure if I ever did apologise for...”

“You did sir, no need to mention it again. You were just doing your job.”

“Still, you do have my condolences for your loss. It can’t have been easy at the time.”

“I understand why you had to arrest me sir...”

“Enough with the sir business, it’s making me feel old, and I really don’t need the added pressure just at this moment. My name is John.”

“Well... John, you know my name too, please feel free to use it.”

“Thanks Derek... I wonder if I could slip my gun...”

As his hand moved slightly, the snake raised its body and the rattle sounded even louder.   
The sound of the back door opening caused Derek to tense as John automatically turned his head to see what the noise was.   
The movement spooked the snake and it struck. Derek used all his wolf speed to grab the Sherriff by the waist and leapt backwards with him in his arms.   
Both men landed on the lawn near the back door, the Sherriff landing on top of Derek and winding him slightly. They looked up to see a terrified Melissa McCall and a sullen looking Scott standing there. Scott was carrying a bright orange medical case.

“Oh my goodness...”

“It’s ok, I didn’t feel a bite.”

“Sherriff, you should look at your shoe.” Scott said, his golden skin paling a little.

John stood, with help from Melissa and looked down at his right foot as Derek stood up behind him. The toe of the shoe was discoloured and torn, and they could all see the toes of his sock through the small hole. The liquid was venom. It had been too close.  
John suddenly felt the need to sit, and only Derek’s strong arm around his waist stopped him from falling. Melissa grabbed a chair from just beside the door and forced the panting man to sit. Derek and Scott grabbed some more chairs from the deck and they sat with him.

“Why didn’t the snake follow you?” Scott asked.

“Snakes are usually more scared of humans than we are of them,” the Sherriff answered, “It’s probably long gone in the other direction by now. We should just keep an eye out though.”

He reached down to his belt and unclipped his gun, drawing it from the holster. With a practiced eye he checked the safety and the barrel and rested the gun loosely on his knee as he recovered.  
“Is Stiles upstairs?” Melissa asked suddenly, “I told him I’d look in on him to check on his... his bruises.”

“Bruises?” Scott was puzzled.

“Did he tell you the real story Melissa, or is he lying to you too?” the Sherriff asked, seeming more tired and old at the mention of his son than he had when facing the rattlesnake.

“Story?” Scott asked, “What happened to Stiles?”

“You mean you don’t even know?” Derek spat, unable to keep his anger under wraps at this display of total ignorance.

“Know what?” Scott replied defensively, “He was fine at the match. Then I guess he wandered off somewhere. I was... I was...”

“Too busy ‘celebrating’ with your ‘real friends’ to bother about the boy who has been your best friend, supposedly, for years?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you even notice he was hurt? Did you even think about what danger he might have been in? Do you even remember the last time you hung out together?” Derek was in a rage.

“We hang out all the time.”

“Bullshit! You haven’t been here for weeks.”

“How could you possibly know that? That’s not true! I was here...um...”

“Your scent has almost completely faded from his room Scott. Stiles doesn’t even...”

“Could someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” Sherriff Stilinski suddenly thundered. “I know Stiles’ story about the rival team beating him up was bull, but this is starting to sound serious. It’s also starting to sound like you and Scott know something about what my son has been up to the last few months and since I am never going to get the truth from him, I am going to get the truth from you. Is he in a gang? Are you selling drugs to my son and his friends Hale? Scott, is there something going... no, I know there is something going on in this town, and Stiles is deep in the middle of it. I’m sick of finding him at crime scenes or next to dead bodies or sitting at my kitchen table with his face looking like he’s gone eight rounds with Mike Tyson. He thinks he’s so clever hiding his pain pills and washing the blood out of his clothes while I’m asleep. He thinks I don’t hear him waking up night after night screaming from whatever has terrified him from his sleep. I always thought he was a good kid, cheeky as hell and way too clever for his own good – but basically a decent person. But he’s changed. Is it a fight club? Is it drinking? I found him outside Jungle the night of... Is he being groomed by some sort of pervert? Has he... oh my God, please tell me he hasn’t been...Did someone get him drunk and... Someone is going to tell me what the hell my son is up to or so help me God I will begin taking names and slamming cell doors!”

“I’ll tell you.” Derek was sounding a lot calmer than he felt.

“You can’t!” Scott blurted, “It’s not your secret! Stiles didn’t want his Dad to know about... He won’t be happy. It’s not your secret to tell!”

Derek’s mouth twitched as a wan smile flitted across it.   
“Funny. That’s the excuse Stiles always uses when I tell him he should be telling his Dad what has happened. That it’s not his secret. It’s mine, or yours, or Lydia’s, or Jackson’s... He’s willing to lie to his father and tear himself apart to keep you and me safe Scott. It’s tearing him apart. Stiles will never let anyone he cares for get hurt if he can take the pain for them. You know that Scott. That’s what you relied on all these years, isn’t it?”

“It’s easier not to know!” Scott almost howled the words, “Mom was happier when she didn’t know!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Melissa McCall was looking at Derek and her son with a growing sense of realisation. “Scott, what have you done?”

“Why am I being blamed? It’s all his fault!” Scott roared as he threw the medical kit at Derek’s face.   
His eyes flashed gold for a second, only a second, but it was long enough.

“What the hell...?” John blinked.

“John, you’re right. It is beyond time that you were told what has happened around here. I was reluctant to say anything while it was all happening, because it does need a calm mind and a lot of focus to take it all in. But Derek is right. Stiles has been lying to you for so long that he probably doesn’t know how to stop. You know how hyper focused he can become on some things. This is one of those things. It’s the same impulse that makes him plan your meals out weeks in advance. He’s terrified of losing you, of failing you, of you dying or getting hurt, or sick. When things first happened, you would have been in danger had the main protagonists known that you knew about their secrets, but now it’s more than time you were told.”

“So tell me.”

“First, you’ll need to give me your gun.” Melissa held her hand out.

John Stilinski paled and took a sharp breath.  
“It can’t be... is it that bad? I’m not about to... who am I going to shoot? You? Scott? Derek?”

“It’s just best if we remove the whole issue before we start. You’ll understand why soon.”

Melissa smiled wearily at him as he stood, went inside and returned a few moments later without the gun.  
“It’s in the safe. Want to frisk me?”

“No need Sherriff, I know you were telling the truth.” Derek said simply.

“How can you be so sure son?”

“I would have heard your heartbeat change if you had lied.”

“From there? How?”

“Werewolves have very powerful senses Sherriff.” Derek said as his eyes glowed red and his face shifted.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
In some ways it was terribly disappointing that the entire saga of the last few months in Beacon Hills had only taken a little over ten minutes to explain; once Melissa,   
Derek and John had successfully stopped Scott from trying to explain anything that is. Between Derek’s knowledge, the Sherriff’s keen questions and Melissa’s ability to force reluctant truths from her son, the whole sorry mess had been laid out before them all.

“...so my son is...”

“He’s not a wolf sir.” Derek was much more subdued after having to recount, even tangentially, his involvement with Kate. It hadn’t helped that both the Sherriff and Ms McCall had looked at him with a terrible understanding in their eyes. He had seen them calculating in their heads and had just murmured “It was 2 months after my 15th birthday.” The Sherriff had bitten the inside if his cheek so hard it had bled.

“He’s a something though.” Scott said vaguely, “At least that’s what Dr Deaton says.”

“The vet?” John exclaimed.

“Deaton was my mother’s Emissary sir,” Derek explained, “A sort of combination diplomat, advisor and knowledge source many of the more established packs have. The position is often filled by someone with either knowledge or talent for one of the traditions of... well... magic.”

“Again, stop with the sirs Derek, and what is Dr Deaton’s interest in Stiles?”

“You remember when you found Stiles outside Jungle, just before the attack at the rave party.” Derek raised an eyebrow. “Well... he had been laying a circle of Mountain Ash around the nightclub. When a circle or a barrier is made, using ground up carefully made charcoal from the Rowan or Mountain Ash tree, if the barrier is made with deliberate intent, most supernatural creatures are unable to cross the ash line, or even touch or affect it in any way.”

“And you need to be a...”

“No sir... John, almost any human can make a barrier, but Stiles ran out of ash before he had finished the circle. It was a huge area, and he was left with only a handful of ash and about twenty yards to try to cover.”

“So?”

“He completed the circle.”

“How?” Melissa hadn’t heard this detail of the event before.

“Doc had told Stiles he had a ‘spark’ or something.” Scott explained, “After he did that thing with the ash, he said that maybe Stiles had more than just a spark.”

“Did he explain what he meant by that?” the Sherriff enquired.

Derek snorted a sardonic laugh as even Scott had the decency to blush.

“Dr Deaton never really explains anything Sherriff, “He sighed, “But he did say something about Stiles being in danger or maybe he said he was a danger...?”

“When did he say that?” Derek snapped out before the Sherriff could.

“Uh... maybe a few weeks ago? It was after the Jungle thing, but...”

“Scott! How could you just ignore that?’ his mother was trying not to shout at him.

“I was busy! I just... he’s ok isn’t he? No harm, no foul.”

“He’s probably still upstairs sleeping.” John sighed as he stretched his legs in the chair. 

“No, he isn’t.” Derek said worriedly, “I checked his room earlier, before the snake thing. I was on my way to look for him when I heard you out here and... he wouldn’t have gone wandering in the Preserve would he?”

“I don’t think Stiles would have gone far with those bruises.” John said. “Let alone the injuries you just told me he’s been hiding from me.”

“Bruises?” Scott’s face was a picture. “Injuries?”

“Do you not listen to anything said to you?” Derek was furious again, “Your supposed best friend was kidnapped by your girlfriend’s crazy grandfather, the man you had been helping to murder people so he’d put in a good word for you with her Dad. Gerard then electrocuted Stiles repeatedly, beat him to a pulp, cracked a couple of ribs I think, judging by the pain meds he’s been popping and then carved a few choice words and symbols into his back for giggles. And you were too busy playing tonsil hockey with your psycho bitch of a...”

“Derek! That’s enough!” Melissa was calm. “I will deal with Scott, not because your feelings on the matter are less important, but because, quite frankly, you deserve to not have to deal with his stupid shit anymore.”

“Mom!” 

“Shut up Scott, or you will be grounded so long your great-grandkids will never know what ‘going out’ means.”

“He will have his phone on him.” John said, pulling his own phone out of his pocket. “I’ll find out where he is and we can go fetch him.”

Derek and Scott both stiffened suddenly as they heard the familiar strains of ‘Daddy Cool’ coming from... the overgrown area where the snake had been. Even Melissa and the Sherriff heard it. 

“You don’t think...” Melissa asked warily. “Maybe he dropped it in the garden bed?”

“Where did all those plants come from anyway?” Scott asked, puzzled expression echoing his voice.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked.

“I was wondering that too, “the Sherriff added, “That’s why I had walked up to it in the first place. See the gardens on either side of the big hump? Those were planted by Stiles’ mother. The one on the left was her herb and edibles garden, and the right was her flower collection. She had a huge collection of rare plants in both. After she died, Stiles tried to save them, but they’ve been overgrown for years. Neither of us could ever bring ourselves to dig them out though.”

“I still don’t...”

“See where the washing line is? It’s on the other side of the ‘hump’ as you call that overgrown area between the beds. Well the laundry is through this door, so yesterday, when I hung out my towels, I walked from the door, straight to the washing line. Those plants weren’t there.”

“Scott, “Derek growled softly, “Call Deaton.”


	2. The Freudian Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry I haven't estimated the final length of this fic yet, but that's just not how my brain rolls. Anyone familiar with my work on fanfic net would know that my 'simple little few chapters based on Glee' has made it to almost 78 chapters so far and counting! I may be an erratic writer but I NEVER give up or abandon anything!  
> Anyway - in this chapter:  
> The Sherriff is patient. Melissa has a patient. Dr Deaton makes a housecall. Scott might get hit by the clue bat. Derek is dreamy. and Stiles... makes a most unfortunate slip of the tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I was new at this! It's up there! Go read it again.  
> Oh, and I apologise for Stiles' rambling, but remember, he is having a... something...

John Stilinski was really trying hard to resist the impulse to go back into his house, into his office, to the safe, opening the safe, removing his gun from the gun box in the safe and then returning outside to break at least a dozen police regulations, several breaches of the peace and commit murder one. 

In the past few hours he had been threatened by a drunk and abusive husband armed with a broken beer bottle. He had refrained from firing his handgun.  
He had apprehended a man wanted for armed robbery in three states while the man was playing pool in Beacon Hills’ most notorious biker bar. He had refrained from firing his handgun.  
A huge and highly venomous rattlesnake had trapped him in his own backyard for what felt like a month. He had refrained from firing his handgun.  
A man he had once thought a possible murderer and a boy he had once thought of as almost a son had revealed that they were supernatural creatures complete with fangs, claws and enough strength to tear the head off a mountain lion. He had refrained from firing his handgun.

John Stilinski had always thought himself a patient man.  
Certainly he had always been the calm one in his marriage.  
Stiles was not only the physical image of his mother (although he had inherited his father’s broad shoulders at least) but was just as volatile, erratic and impulsive as his sweet Claudia had been.

John Stilinski was contemplating the premeditated murder of the town’s premier veterinarian.

Scott wasn’t sure, but Derek was certain that Stiles was indeed located somewhere under the huge riotous mound of plant-life.  
They could smell him, apparently. Well, Derek could. Scott, it turned out, was as good a werewolf as he was a school student; talented but unmotivated.  
John and the wolves had been almost desperate to get to Stiles to see what was wrong with him. Derek had almost gone feral until he had finally been able to hear the boy’s heartbeat.  
It was, apparently, barely beating; weak and slow, very slow. According to Derek his son’s heart rate was a shallow, but steady four beats per minute.  
Four!  
Melissa McCall hadn’t needed to explain how bad that was; even Scott had gotten that idea through his head.  
Derek had not, however, been able to hear him breathing.

As the almost an hour they had been forced to wait for the vet’s arrival had progressed they had attempted to approach the plant mound more closely. The rattle snake was still there, oddly enough. So was another, slightly small member of the same species, as well as an equally deadly but far rarer species of water moccasin which had no rightful business being in this part of the country.  
It was the bees that had been the biggest shock; well... the bees and the hornets... and the wasps.

When they had discovered not only the snakes but the insects as well seemed reluctant to leave the immediate area of the... what would Stiles have called it...? Briar Patch...? Probably... They almost seemed to be guarding it. Derek, having the most experience with supernatural things (what little that might be) suggested they leave well enough alone and wait for the ‘expert’.

Alan Deaton had finally arrived. He had stood, standing in silence, staring at the... thicket? Then he had turned and asked Scott to go boil a kettle and bring him out a large mug and a jar of honey.  
Opening his large black bag he had extracted a few jars of mysterious herbs, steeped them in the mug with the hot water, with a fierce air of total concentration, then stirred in a spoonful of honey and given the mug to the Sherriff.

“Drink this Sherriff.”  
“Will it help my son?”  
“Perhaps...”

It had been bitter, even with the honey, but strangely refreshing.

“What is this exactly?” John asked, continuing to sip the fragrant potion. “What does it do?”  
“It’s merely an herbal tea; a blend of my own devising. It promotes relaxation and relieves tension.”  
“What? How is this going to...?”  
“It would cause young Stiles no end of unneeded stress should you succumb to hypertension or a stroke Sherriff.” Deaton was sorting through more little jars and a large mortar and pestle, making some sort of paste.  
“Whatever may be happening to him, it would do no good at all to subject him to even more pressure. If my suspicions are borne out we will want to keep young Mr Stilinski as calm as possible for the immediate future.”  
“What is happening to him?” Melissa’s voice was tight with tension, “Is he going to be alright?”  
“Perhaps...”

John thought about his gun again.

“I won’t really know until I can examine him.” The infuriatingly stoic vet explained. “A task I won’t be able to do until I have persuaded his guardians to let me closer.”  
“Guardians?” Scott’s eyebrows were going to develop a permanent wrinkle at this rate.  
“The snakes, the bees, the wasps, the...” Derek had much stronger eyebrow game.  
“Precisely.” Deaton said as he slowly approached the ‘Stiles Pile’ (as Scott had christened it, right before his mother had slapped him upside the head)

The man took a step closer then stopped and seemed to be meditating.  
After another minute, he took a further step; then another; then another.  
When the rattles and hisses of the reptilian guards were heard, he stopped again and stood still for several minutes.  
He took another step.  
The largest snake hissed louder.  
Deaton stopped and opened his eyes. He was now standing in almost exactly the place the Sherriff had been when Derek had found him.  
A slight bead of perspiration could be seen forming on the otherwise calm forehead of the inscrutable man.  
With a slow, but steady movement, he suddenly knelt beside the mound of vegetation, and offered his bare wrist to the snake.  
Melissa and John startled as if to protest, but Derek stayed calm and kept them from interfering.  
Scott was checking his phone for messages and missed it.

Deaton and the snake kept eye contact for several, and in the case of John and Melissa stuttering, heartbeats before the man slowly nodded and those actually observing saw a muscle in his jaw clench. It reminded John of the reaction he and Stiles both had when they were forced to have a blood test or something. Neither of them were really good with needles or...  
The snake struck.

Deaton’s jaw twitched, but he remained still, and a few seconds later the snake released him. The wounds were bleeding slightly, but even from here John could see it wasn’t... the colour was... 

“I am unharmed. The guardian merely required a gesture of trust from me. No venom was injected.”  
“It’s a snake. Can you talk to snakes? You didn’t say anything though. Did you have a whole conversation with it? Is it telepathy? Does it understand all of us, or just you? How trustworthy are snakes anyway? Has it done something to Stiles? How much has it told you? Does it speak in English or in pictures or symbols? How smart is it? It’s just a snake though, isn’t it?”

The Sherriff really was trying not to sound like his son right at the moment but it was an impossible task.  
Stiles may have inherited most of his physical characteristics and personality quirks from his mother, but the flailing and question vomit was a long recorded and hideously embarrassing Stilinski family trait.

“It’s is indeed a snake Sherriff but not just a snake. Certainly a normal snake would never tolerate another snake so close without conflict, let alone two; and one of those is a different species entirely.”

Deaton began clearing away some of the riot of vines, flowers and leaves which covered the area Stiles was supposedly trapped beneath.  
As his hands moved he seemed to be doing something far less prosaic than clearing weeds.  
He was carefully moving them rather than tearing them out. The deft movements of his fingers stirred small clouds of bees and other creatures into flight.  
As he moved one last stubborn fern frond a cloud of butterflies rose into the sunlight that was just beginning to peep over the roof of the house. They were... 

“Beautiful.” Melissa breathed as the riot of colours and shapes billowed up. There must have been scores of different species there. As they flew up, before they began to disperse into the Preserve, there were so many that their mass caused the sunlight to dip, as if the sun were passing behind one of the clouds that still scudded across the sky.

Stiles was still and pale. 

The dark constellation of moles which graced the smooth planes of his face and neck were stark in contrast to the almost translucent quality of his skin. No one could see his chest moving, but although he was pale, it didn’t seem to be the pallor of death.  
Melissa twitched, her nurse’s instincts screaming at her to run over to the boy she considered a son and... fix him... somehow...

Beat...  
Derek had to force himself to listen to the slow, shallow pulse of Stiles’ heartbeat to stop from howling in fear and horror and loss.  
All he could do was stare at this strange, annoying boy who had somehow slipped into the impregnable fortress Derek had built to guard himself from the world and not only claimed the comfortable spot on the sofa but the TV remote as well.  
John felt his own heart shuddering and aching as he prayed for his boy to a God he no longer believed in.

Beat...  
Scott felt his tears welling up and overflowing. He couldn’t...  
Stiles had not been able to bear the touch of a shirt last night while trying to sleep, so his pale chest was now bare. Faint scars criss-crossed his slender, but surprisingly muscular body. Faint... 

“His bruises...” John was staring at his son’s face. The black eyes he had been sporting were almost entirely gone.

Beat...  
Melissa McCall was looking with a trained eye at the patterns of scars and bruising that were visible on the teen’s body from this angle. She couldn’t see his back, of course, but what she could see from the front was scary enough.

“He must have been in agony.” She almost sobbed “Look at the cuts along his ribs. They’re practically gone now, but it would have been an almost constant weeping and pulling until the wound closed. And you say this only happened the night before last? How has he healed so quickly?”

Beat...  
“You BASTARD! You bit him, didn’t you?” Scott demanded of Derek, his eyes flaring with anger now.  
“No!”  
“Scott Andrew McCall calm the fuck down!”

Everyone (except Deaton) was shocked at the strength and power in Nurse McCall’s voice as she stared down her son.

Beat...

“If you had the sense that God gave to a goldfish you would remember that both of us have seen how a werewolf heals Scott. They heal quickly. They heal fully. They do not scar.” Melissa was almost incandescent with anger “Derek did not bite Stiles, and anyway, it’s not your place to be so high and mighty! If Stiles asks Derek to bite him, if anyone asks Derek to bite them, then that will be between Derek, the person involved and, if they are underage, their parents. I know exactly what your views on this subject are young man, and I understand why you have them, but just feeling strongly about something is no excuse for forcing your views onto someone else. If you do that you’re no better than Peter was when he bit you.”

Beat...  
“How could you know... I’ve never talked to you about...”  
“Who do you think Stiles has had left to talk to after you abandoned him? I’ve done what I could for him, when I could, but I know I’ve not had enough time to help him through this. Derek, I really don’t want to interfere or intrude, or to breach a confidence, but I do want to thank you for being there for Stiles. He has said on several occasions that the only good thing to come out of this whole mess is meeting you and forming the start of a friendship. He says that you have been the only thing he’s really been able to trust since this all started.”

Beat...  
Derek and Scott both huffed in shock at that, but for much different reasons.  
Deaton cleared his throat pointedly.  
“The guardians seem to be departing now that we have established our bona fides. I suggest we wait to move Mr Stilinski until I have determined exactly why he is... where he is”

Beat...  
“Let me see my son.”  
The Sherriff was beside the body of his son in seconds. He reached a hand out, but stopped inches from the pale skin.  
“Is it safe to touch him?”

Beat...  
“Perhaps”  
“I’m beginning to see why Stiles always wound up putting more money into the swear jar on the days he’d go visit Scott at work.”  
Deaton’s expression could have been generously described as ‘bland’ at that statement.

Beat...  
Melissa was already beside the Sherriff, stethoscope in hand.  
“Let’s find out if it’s safe to touch him.” She reached her hand out.  
“Mom! No!” Scott wolfed across the intervening space and held her arm back.  
“I believe it is no longer dangerous to touch young Stiles” Deaton said softly as Scott apologised for startling his mom. They looked down to see the Sherriff’s hand brushing a stray leaf from his son’s still face.

Beat...  
“Melissa...?”  
“Mom! Me and Derek can hear Stiles’ heart just fine. There’s no need for you to...”  
“Melissa, maybe we should wait till we see if I get affected or something. Let the boys tell you how Stiles is doing and...”

Beat...  
“OK! Enough! First: Scott, it’s Derek and I; second: there are things a trained ear can tell from listening to a person’s body that not even a wolf could pick up on. I need to hear things for myself. Derek can tell me IF Stiles’ heart is beating, or if he’s breathing, but he can’t tell me if there’s an echo, or a lag, or if it just sounds ‘skeevy’ or ‘crunchy’ or... I can. John, I wouldn’t make you run a crime scene through an interpreter, extend the same courtesy to me please.”

Beat...  
“Ms McCall...”  
“Not you too Derek! I’m a professional! Just...”  
“No ma’am, it’s not that. It’s just that...”

Beat...  
“What Mr Hale is trying to say is that the situation may have changed”  
“Really Dr Deaton? Are you incapable of making a definitive statement?” John was tired.

Beat...  
“Scott, give me my stethoscope back.”

Beat...  
“Mom!”

Beat...  
“Scott, return the stethoscope to your mother and go inside and fetch a couple of blankets.”

Beat... ... ... Beat... ... ... Beat... ... Beat... ... Beat... Beat... Beat...Beat...Beat..Beat..Beat.beat.beat.beat.

“Why is everyone in this room shouting?” Stiles mumbled as he exhaled the huge shuddering breath he had just taken. It was, possibly, his first breath for several hours. “Gwway...wannamslheepsumorrrr”

John leant over his son’s supine form and tried to pull him up.  
Stiles shouted in pain and John found himself unable to move him off the ground.

“Sherriff! You might want to wait until Stiles is ready to get up.”  
Deaton spoke calmly, but Derek had been gradually learning how to read the subtle signs and realised the veterinarian was... excited?

“What’s wrong? Why can’t I lift him from the...”  
“Oh wow! Stiles has ROOTS!”  
“Scott!”  
“No, seriously mom, look! You can see where his arm came up just a little when the Sherriff pulled him. He’s attached to the ground! I don’t know if this is cool or... well, it is a bit disgusting too I suppose...”

Scott was poking gently at the tiny tendrils the movement had exposed. At first glance they seemed little more than slightly thicker than normal body hair, except that they were only present on the surface of the skin which had been touching the soil, and rather than the dark brown of the rest of Stiles’ body hair, they were more coppery... a definite greenish tinge to the reddish brown.  
Stiles frowned in his semi-doze as his friend prodded his arm and suddenly his arm was free from the ground as he fended the unwelcome touches off.

“Scott, stop poking me. That’s weird.”

He flailed his arm out and struck Scott in the chest as Scott leant over to prod at Stiles’ shoulder. 

Scott flew several feet across the yard and landed on his back in a tangle of limbs and broken chair.

“Why am I itchy?” Stiles complained as he opened his eyes at last. For a split second their usual warm amber colour had been flecked with silver and green and gold, then Stiles blinked and they were normal. They noticed that the ‘roots’, whatever they were, on his arms seemed to be fading or phasing into his body, leaving him looking like his normal self, only paler.

“Where does it hurt Stiles?”

“Momma McCall! Why are you here?” Stiles still seemed fairly out of it. 

“Doesn’t hurt... Itchy... My head, back of the neck, down my back... feels funny... It’s not meningitis is it? I don’t want to die Melissa! I’m too young to die... I’m still a virgin... I don’t want to die while I’m still a virgin... That’d be a waste! I want to... Dad! You didn’t hear me say that, did you? I didn’t say anything about... Dr Deaton? You’re here too? Oh! It’s a dream! Wow, I didn’t think I’d even get to sleep... This must be because I took the good drugs! But not from you Doc, I didn’t take them. Ms McCall gave me some because she understands how hard it is to try to keep up with the wolves... I don’t like the drugs... Don’t. Do. Drugs!... Not even the good ones... But I’ve got to take them when I get hurt, or they’ll leave me behind... I’m just the human, the weak one... I don’t want to be left behind. They’d all die without me... So I have to protect them, from death and... and stuff... and death!... even if it kills me... but I don’t want to die, because that would make Dad sad.. hey! that rhymes!... He was sad when mom... you know... but I looked after him... so I can’t die because if I die I can’t look after him if I die... this has been a great chat Doc... I like this dream! I don’t have anyone to talk to about this you know... I used to talk to Scott... he was here too before, but he’s gone now... that’s a metaphor, or is it an analogy? It’s probably significant... I read a book about it... or was that that movie, Inception? Joseph is way hotter than Leo by the way... I used to have a friend called Scott, but he left me because he’s in love, but that’s alright, because he should be happy... but I don’t have anyone to talk to about the big things anymore, but I do in my dreams... I dreamed my dad was here... oh, there he is again! Hi dad... I can tell you things in the dream, because it’s a dream... so it won’t hurt anyone... that’s the rule... I think ... someone wrote a rule ... probably Jung... not Freud though, he was a whacko... not everything is about pennies... ponies... peepee... penises! I got an A for the assignment you know! Finstock was so mad, but I still got an A!... yeah so... Derek! Derek is here too!... Hi Der! Whoa! This dream keeps getting better!... Dad, this is Derek. You arrested him once... or was it twice?... or was it once for two things?... but he’s really a good guy... I can’t introduce him to you in real life, because you’d have to shoot things and you’d get killed and everything... not by Derek though! He’s a really good guy!... Did I say that already?... Well... he is... Derek is good... and he’s a guy!... and he’s a good guy!... I dream about Derek a lot... sometimes... but he must never ever... never know... not ever... I hope he can’t smell it... I try not to make smells when I’m with him... not that I’m ‘with him’ with him... not that there’s anything wrong with that!... Seinfeld! Derek’s a good guy, but I annoy him... but he’s still good, and I can dream about him if I want to! It’s a free collective unconscious... that’s more Jung... I’m too Jung for him you know, but I can dream... mmmm, dreamy... not those sorts of dream though!... well... sometimes those sorts... I have needs Dad... even if my fashion sense is straight... and Lydia won’t let me dream about her anymore... so I dream about Derek and his shoulders... and... other things and... ooooh... maybe Freud was right after all because in my dreams Derek has an absolutely amazing...”

“Stiles!” Derek said forcefully, “You’re not dreaming!”

“What?” Cue impressive Stilinski flail. 

Stiles counted his fingers.

He stared at Melissa and his Dad, and at Dr Deaton.  
He shot a glance at Scott dusting pieces of broken chair off him clothes as he came closer again.  
He refused to look even in Derek’s direction.  
His incredibly pale skin showed that a blush that went all the way down to disappear beneath the sweatpants he was wearing.

“Oh fuck my life!”  
“Stiles!”  
“Sorry Dad. I know, swear jar.”  
“Stiles...” Dr Deaton began.  
“Oh God, this is unbearable.” Stiles moaned as he lay back down on the ground, “I wish the earth would just open up and swallow me whole right now!”

It did.


	3. Into The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All new Chapter THREE! Now with added characters! Meet Buzz Lightyear! Thrill to the adventures of the Flying Douchebag! Watch Dumbo get grounded! Meet the real live Wooden Boy! Sing songs about worms! Let love lift you up where you belong! Thrill as a psychologically damaged Sourwolf is made to use his words by a sneaki old bastard! Be shocked and amazed as DEATON ACTUALLY TELLS PEOPLE STUFF!!!!! (and smiles! well... almost) and finally, wonder how the scarlet woman can walk a mile through a forest in stilletos and not get hurt or stuck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to finish this chapter before the weekend, but I didn't. Then I had a very VERY busy weekend and needed a day to recover from it. For those vaguely interested, this weekend I participated in a charity event where various amatuer and professional theatre workers, musicians and stage crew volunteered to take part in "The TwentyFour Hour Musical Project" A group of directors, musos and designers (well, 5 people) chose a full length musical several months ago and made secret plans. On Saturday night, at 6pm exactly, they revealed to those cast in the secret show, what the show actually was and what part each of us had. We, the crew and the orchestra then spent the next 24 hours madly rehearsing and learning until curtain up at 6pm Sunday, in front of a paying audience of aver 530 people. We had a 26 member Orchestra, a cast of 24, a crew of 20 (including hairdressers, professional makeup artists, tailors, etc) all helping raise money for various charities. Still counting but it looks like we raised tens of thousands for them! Woot! Oh, but the best bit was the amazment on the audience's faces as they gave us a STANDING OVATION for presenting Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella - complete with crazy dancing, intricate chorus singing and stage magic. So it took me a while to be able to walk as far as my computer to type this. Hopefully next chapter by next weekend? No promises. It's looking like about another 2 or 3 chapters, but I've been wrong before.

Scott McCall was in a Time-Out, his first since the age of... ok, since last Thursday.

Stiles’ disappearance had upset all of them, even Deaton had blinked and almost opened his mouth; John was counting that as a reaction. He might not have known the man for very long, but he was a professional person reader and that blink was probably as close to ‘utter surprise’ as he was going to get from the taciturn vet today.  
Melissa had shrieked with surprise and turned to the Sherriff in confusion.  
John had managed to change the expletive he was halfway through uttering into a form of confectionary; unfortunately this was a feat of verbal dexterity which would only have impressed the individual that had caused the expletive in the first place.  
Derek had thrown himself to the, now, disturbed ground and pressed his ear to the surface in an attempt to hear Stiles. Derek seemed almost frantic. John had been sure the young man was about to ‘wolf out’ and start trying to dig Stiles out of the churned soil with his clawed hands.  
Scott had blamed Derek for everything; loudly and offensively.

John had hoped that Derek wouldn’t respond in kind and would not make things worse by aggravating the situation.   
Derek’s response to the spray of half articulated invective, confused past history and general character assassination and swearing was, however, guaranteed to inflame any teenage boy with anger management issues.  
He didn’t bother to listen to him. He just kept trying to hear or scent Stiles while his face grew paler and his eyes started to glisten.

Scott had seen red at this further evidence of Derek’s unsuitability for... for whatever it was Scott was talking about (John could barely follow the stream of words for meaning let alone understand exactly who or what Scott was objecting to)   
After a few more seconds of inarticulate rage, Scott had launched an attack of a more physical kind. He had wolfed out and leapt onto Derek’s back, drawing blood with his claws and trying to bite the man’s throat out.

Deaton had managed to get a circle of mountain ash around the irrational teen before Derek decided to hurt him.   
What had been the real surprise of the one-sided battle was the reappearance of the bees and hornets, several hundred of which had swarmed Scott’s struggling form, forcing him to back away from an unmoving Derek and allowing Deaton a clear shot.  
Deaton had merely hurled a handful of the black powder into the air and snapped his fingers and somehow the ash landed in a perfect circle around the still shouting Scott. John had to admit, it was impressive.

Deaton had done some sort of spell that indicated that Stiles was “somewhere in the telluric currents by now” (whatever the hell that meant) and had then gone to find some books or crystals or maybe a cupcake? John hadn’t really been paying a lot of attention to the man. He has reassured them of Stiles’ safety before leaving though. John wasn’t really sure how the man could be so confident his son was alright, but he did seem to be as competent at the magic stuff as he was healing animals so... John decided the best course of action was to just accept the assurances as justified until proven false. It was easier to not breakdown in tears and worry that way.

Scott remained trapped in his ash prison.   
The Sherriff wasn’t terribly impressed with the level of maturity the boy had shown, nor with the reports of the way he had apparently been treating Stiles, who was supposedly his best friend. John knew Scott wasn’t a bad person, Melissa would never have let that happen, but he also knew that the boy had a lot of growing up to do. Scott had a terrible habit of ignoring anything that didn’t fit into his black and white vision of the world. He was also deep in the throes of his first romance, and that was never a good time to expect responsibility from any teen. 

John was dreading the time when Stiles would start crushing on a girl (or possibly a boy?) who actually acknowledged his existence. His epic (and decade long) crush on Lydia Martin had been hard enough to live with.   
God help us all if Stiles found someone who returned his affections.   
His son was so like Claudia it frightened him. When Stiles found a love object who returned his feelings he would fall hard. John really hoped the woman (or possibly man?) was worthy, because there would be no argument or protest that could ever work to stop Stiles from giving his heart away totally.

Melissa was currently berating her captive son while she had the chance.

John was really only paying attention to the man still kneeling in the space his son’s body had occupied for God knows how long.   
John could see something in the man’s body language that was at odds with his blank and guarded face.  
Derek had now carefully fitted his knees into the shape left in the soil by Stile’s hips and was curled over them, almost in a vertical foetal position. He hadn’t spoken since Stiles’ outburst. He hadn’t moved at all really since his simple headshake when he proved unable to hear if Stiles was trapped under the ground. John was, as previously mentioned, a profession reader of people. He sighed deeply and carefully lowered himself to the ground next to Derek’s semi-collapsed form.

“Can I lean on you Derek?”

Derek shot back into a kneeling position and snapped his head to make eye contact with the Sherriff.

“Of course you can John, I’ll do whatever I can to help you find...”  
“I mean literally. I’m getting old son and I don’t think I can stay on the ground as long as I could when I was your age.”

The Sherriff swung his legs around so that they were slightly below the rest of him. The shape Stiles had left in the lawn... well, what had been lawn, wasn’t deep, but even a couple of inches difference helped his joints cope with sitting on the ground. His movement caused him to shift slightly closer to Derek, and his arm naturally swung across Derek’s shoulders as he used the younger man to balance himself.

“Derek, you need to stop listening to idiots like Scott.”  
“Scott was saying something? I honestly didn’t notice. I thought he was just upset about Stiles.”  
“He was... he is, and so are you, aren’t you?” John tried to find the gentlest way to word his next question. “Derek, what are your thoughts about the relationship that has been building between you and my... and Stiles?”

Despite Derek’s overwhelmingly greater strength, the Sherriff’s arm was capable of holding him in place better than mountain ash.

“I... Sherriff, I...”  
“I’m not asking as the Sherriff, Derek, I’m not even really asking as Stiles’ parent. I’m asking as a person who cares about Stiles, yes, but also as someone who knows a little too much about you and your background.”  
“I’ll leave town sir. Give me a few days to organise something for Isaac and...”  
“Oh fuck! I’m messing this up anyway! Derek, what I mean is that I can see the beginning of what could eventually be a real and lasting relationship; whether as friends or more is between you and Stiles. I’m not worried about you taking the next step and acknowledging a friendship between you; I’m worried about you, both of you, being too uptight or self-effacing to even see there’s a step to take.”

Derek was tense under the Sherriff’s touch. He tried to make eye contact, but couldn’t raise his head the last few inches.

“I... Stiles and I are... I’ve never...”  
“I don’t need to ask if you care about him Derek; I can see that in every action and reaction you’ve shown today. As for romantic attachments; I don’t even know if that would even be a possibility for you...”  
“It... it... I’m... I think the term is pan...”  
“Derek! You don’t need to justify yourself or reveal things you want to keep personal or private. Just let an old man blather on for a while until the font of elder wisdom we’re supposed to get as compensation for creaking bones kicks in”

Derek couldn’t bite off the sudden laugh that remark engendered. Lord save him from both the Stilinski men! They could play him like a damned fiddle!

“Stiles thinks he’s been really clever hiding the whole wolf thing from me, and he probably has been. What he forgot is that I am the Sherriff, and this is a small town. People in small towns love nothing more than to interfere in everyone else’s business. Now, there aren’t any rumours of witches or beast men shooting round the usual sources; not since the last field trip by those botany students from UC-Berkley. There are, however, several old women of both sexes who were very pleased to share with me or my deputies all the juiciest details of my son’s supposed ‘sexual experimentation’ with Beacon Hills most notorious ‘bad boy’. I’m still not sure if they wanted us to put a stop to it or arrange a film crew to video it for them.”

Derek stifled that laugh, but it set off a slight coughing fit. The Sherriff gently rubbed him on the back until it passed.

“Sir... John, I would never...”  
“It’s alright Derek, I know. I know, or I’ve worked out a lot of the events in your past. I know you’re not like her. I know you’re a good guy, as Stiles loves to say, repeatedly...”

They both laughed at that one.

“If things ever get to that son, I suspect it will be Stiles I have to keep an eye on. Don’t ever let him pressure you into anything you aren’t comfortable with or ready for, promise me that, ok Derek?”  
“Stiles and I... I would never... I couldn’t...”  
“Derek! I know my son. It’s you I am more worried about. Not because you might hurt him, but because he might hurt you.”  
“I... I’m not worried about that sir. I can...”  
“You think you don’t deserve good things, don’t you?”

Derek was so still it was hard to see him breathing.

“I don’t wish to poke my annoying nose into your business son, but if Stiles ever does pull his head out of his ass and decides to make a play for you, as a friend or a boyfriend or a husband or anything else, your only real hope is to give in as easily as possible. Claudia was 17 when I met her, I was 26. She was far too young for me. I wasn’t good enough for her. She was just being kind. I was reading things that weren’t really there. She just wanted a friend. It was the glamour of my job not me she liked. She was just fixating on me because I had saved her from a mugger. I had a million reasons for why there was really nothing between us or why it wasn’t serious or why it couldn’t or shouldn’t happen... She saw through me before I could come up with any more. I didn’t have a chance. I held her at bay for almost a year and let me tell you, she sure payed me back for it. Trust me, just go with the flow. If Stiles already feels so much for you, then you must be worthy of it. I know I sometimes go on about how impulsive he can be, or how poor his decisions are sometimes, but Stiles is actually a really good judge of peoples’ characters. If he decides you are worthy of his heart, if he tells you that you are a good and worthy person then just suck it up and act like you believe he’s right and you’ll make him happy enough to outshine the sun”  
“But I’ll fail him. I’ve already...”  
“This, whatever it is, is not your fault Derek! It’s not Scott’s fault. It’s not even Stiles’ fault. At least I can’t see him doing something this stupid deliberately and...”  
“I can” Derek couldn’t help it.  
“Oh I can see him trying it, but as for it actually working...”

Both men needed to lean into each other to stop from falling over with laughter.

“Oh good, you’re bonding, that’ll save time”

Derek couldn’t think how it was possible that he had missed Lydia and Jackson approaching. Lydia was possible because she moved so quietly, even in 6inch heels on cobblestones. Her scent had been changing too, since Peter had used her powers to help raise himself. It was harder to notice now, not impossible, but only his familiarity with it gave him a chance to follow it. But Jackson was not only a wolf, he was one of his own betas! 

“Lydia! What are you doing here?” Melissa asked as she left her despondent son sulking in his ‘naughty’ circle.  
“I got a call from Stiles. His phone was damaged somehow, I didn’t let him explain, it sounded like it would be either complicated or boring, apparently only the 4 key would work, so he called me using the speed dial button, which was, luckily, working”  
“Where is he?” John asked  
“You’re number FOUR?” Scott asked  
“One is his dad, two is Derek, three is you, four is me and five is the Sherriff’s Station  
“Lydia dear, where is Stiles now?”  
“He said to tell you that he’s unhurt and ‘freaked out to the max’, whatever that means. He’s somewhere in the preserve near a ‘creepy ass giant tree stump that totally gives me bad-touch vibes’ and he’s stuck in a tree and could I please tell his Dad and Derek to ‘get their respective asses to him asap’ and to ‘bring Yoda’, I presume he means Dr Deaton?”  
I’ll call him on the way” Derek said, already pulling out his phone.  
“You have a new smart-phone?” Jackson said in surprise.  
“My last phone got broken and I had to replace it.”  
“But that’s the latest phone! You hate technology”  
“Stiles chose it for you, didn’t he?” Lydia was smirking.  
“You know where he is?” John interrupted   
“There’s only one place it could be, and it’s on Hale land. I think I can find it. It’s in the heart of the Preserve; no one ever goes near that part. Mom used to tell us to keep clear of the stump, and after the first couple of times she caught us kids disobeying she managed to convince us it wasn’t worth the punishment to go there”  
“We’ll take my car” John said to Derek, “That way you can talk to Deaton while I drive. Plus, lights and sirens let you speed!”  
“You sound so much like Stiles sometimes it’s frightening” Melissa was grabbing her medical kit. “I’ll get in the back”  
“What about me?” Scott was pushing at his barrier again.  
“You can sit in the back of Jackson’s car” Lydia said as she kicked a gap in the circle with her Louboutins, “I have a few things I want to talk about”  
“Uh... ok... what sort of things?”  
“I’ve spent years pretending to not notice Stiles, because of his ridiculous crush on me, but don’t you dare ever think that I haven’t seen him. Since all this wolf rubbish began he has been the most supportive, loving and caring friend I have ever had. I think I may finally have shown him that any hope of romance is dead, but I love that boy. You are supposed to be his best friend. He thinks of you like his brother. You have not been holding up your end of that bargain, so we are going to have words. Car, now!”

Scott ran for the Porsche.  
Lydia smiled at Melissa as they moved around the house to the driveway. 

“I promise not to hurt him... permanently”  
“Don’t hold back Lydia” Melissa grinned almost a scarily as the strawberry-blonde. “Wolves heal, and Stiles is my other son. I’ve already had my words with his brother”  
.  
.  
.  
.  
The drive to the Preserve had been interesting.   
With siren blaring and lights flashing the Sherriff’s patrol car had cleared what little traffic was on the road as he drove toward the old Hale property at close to double the speed limit.   
Jackson, in his Porsche, was actually hard put to keep up as he kept as close as he dared to the car in front of him. Soon after Derek had hung up, Deaton’s SUV peeled out of a side street and joined the impromptu convoy.

By the time all three cars were parked in front of the remains of the Hale house, the Sherriff had been forced to hold Derek back to stop him running off in wolf form to find Stiles; reminding the man that he was the only one who knew where to go.

It was remarkable how quickly the Preserve became wilder and thicker as they walked from the house area into the centre of the land. After several minutes they heard Stiles’ voice singing what sounded remarkably like the inchworm song.   
Heading towards the sound they came into a clearing dominated by an enormous tree stump. The wood was weathered and dark, and the tree it had originally been must have been truly enormous.   
Deaton actually hissed as he entered the clearing, causing everyone to stop and stare at him.

“This is the Nemeton, a powerful and sacred tree to the druidic movement. Places like this, where the currents of magic that run through the land meet, are sometimes guarded and filtered by an object of power. Stone circles, sacred pools, carved totems or prayer flags can all be used, but the most powerful of all is a living focus of the power, a Nemeton. It’s a tree that grows over the connecting points of the strongest leys and absorbs their magic in every cell. This used to be the closest place I had ever found to what I imagined Oz or Narnia might feel like. I haven’t been here since hunters poisoned it and cut it down, which was about a month after Derek was born. I was still an apprentice then. After the fire, after I returned, I tried to find this place but someone or something had hidden it from me”  
“Where were you, during the fire I mean?” Derek had never had the courage to ask after he had finally found out Deaton’s role in his family.

"Talia had sent me to locate and speak with Deucalion about four months before the fire. It took me too long to find him. She had heard some frightening rumours about his plans. By the time I located him he was already beginning the purge of his pack, then I heard the news of Talia’s death and when I tried to get back, Duke tried to eliminate me. It took so long to get away from him that Laura and Derek were already gone when I made it back. Laura and I stayed in contact. She knew my true role with her pack, but she never formally accepted me as her Emissary, so my ability to find or influence things was limited. Had I been truly her emissary I could have perhaps done something to stop Peter or at least have had less distrust of you and your motivations Derek”  
“But what made you hiss?” Scott cut to the chase.  
“This should be a site of power and balance; instead it is chaos and darkness. Something here is very wrong and to those who can feel the currents, this place is like a thousand fingernails on a thousand blackboards”  
Lydia nodded, swallowing as she paled. “I feel it too”  
“Where is my son?” John was looking up into the branches. “He said he was stuck in a tree, can anyone spot him?”  
“Daddio! Over here, I’m here!”

They caught a violent motion in the branches of a large tree just outside the ring of trees that bounded the clearing. 

“Mountain Ash” Deaton murmured, unsurprised.  
“Of course it is” Lydia agreed.  
“Stiles be careful or you’ll fall!” Melissa called out.  
“I wish!”

They hurried around the decaying Nemeton, carefully not touching even its spreading roots and began looking into the branches of the tree that had moved.

“Down, I’m down here” Stiles sighed.

Stiles was... He was... Stiles and the tree and...

“Dude! You told Lydia you were stuck in a tree!”  
“Scott,” Melissa said very, very calmly, “Stiles IS stuck in a tree”

Stiles’ torso was visible above the twisted roots which rose from the soil supporting the smooth gray trunk. The pattern of bumps and scales on the mostly smooth, slightly shiny bark could also be seen in various places on Stiles’ body, and it made it hard to tell exactly which parts were Stiles’ skin and which areas were bark. He looked like a ghost who had been passing upwards through the ground and roots and into the large trunk of the tree only to materialise before fully leaving the space they shared.   
He looked pale and frightened until he put on his usual brave face.   
No one was fooled, not even Scott this time.

“Doc, please... I’m... I’m getting really bored here. I can’t even play Angry Birds”

Stiles’ phone lay on the soil between two of the roots looking partially smashed, but still working. His right arm was free of the tree, but his left was only out as far as his elbow. It was his left hand that was close enough to the ground to just reach the phone.  
John’s practiced eye pieced together what must have happened.   
Stiles looked like he had been exiting the ground beneath the tree, passing through the roots and the trunk, only to stop suddenly.   
His phone must have been in his left hand, John recalled seeing it lying beside that hand back in the garden, and as Stiles stopped, it must have been jarred out of his hand to smash against the exposed roots.

“Oh!” Stiles exclaimed, making everyone jump “Could someone pick up my buddy Buzz here and move him over to that bush with the yellow flowers? He can’t digest Mountain Ash and there are birds here that keep trying to eat him, again, when he leaves this tree. It was one of them that dropped the little survivor here in the first place. He’s been keeping me company”

John spotted a small caterpillar resting hidden in some leaves on the small branch that grew out from the main trunk. The branch was very thin, perhaps it had grown from a scratch or scar on the bark made by a passing bear? (Years of marriage to a committed gardener meant John knew at least a little about trees and plants).

Deaton seemed fascinated by this.

“Stiles... how do you know that?”  
“Uhhhh, promise you won’t put me into Eichen House...?”  
“Stiles!” John frowned in worry.  
“He told me?”  
“You can speak bug?” Scott asked, wide eyed.  
“He’s an inchworm Scott, not a bug.”   
“But he will turn into a bug”  
Stiles rolled his eyes at his friend, “He’ll turn into a moth dumbass! And you’re the one who wants to be a vet”  
“I’ll move him for you Stiles” Deaton said carefully, “How should I do it so he won’t be hurt?”  
“Just hold your hand out near him, but don’t try to pick him up, he’s squishy”

Deaton held his hand next to the small green creature and watched as it crawled out from its sheltered spot and onto his finger. He walked to the nearby bush and reversed the process.

“Why Buzz?” Scott had to ask, unable to keep silent any longer.  
“He’s an Inchworm!” Stiles exclaimed, “Buzz Lightyear was the only measurement name I could come up with”  
“Deaton, how can we get him out?” John was too worried about his son to bother about naming insects.  
“I’m not sure...” began the vet. Stiles and John both rolled their eyes at the typical response.  
“Can’t you just get out the way you got in?” Scott asked.  
“No”  
“Have you tried? I mean it must be...”  
“No Scott. I didn’t try to get out of the tree. I thought to myself ‘hey, I’m stuck in a tree! This is going to be awesome! I’ll have such an incredible social life once people find out I’m stuck halfway through a tree in the middle of a fucking forest!’ Sorry Dad.”  
“I’ll let it slide son”  
“Are you in pain?” Melissa asked.  
“Only when I think about trying to get out of here. Every time I tried it would start hurting more and more. I must be doing something wrong.”  
“How did you make the tree wave?” Lydia asked.  
“Lydia! Jackson! Eep! Where did... oh my God! This is so embarrassing.”  
Stiles tried to curve away as his blush covered his naked torso again. He stopped and grimaced in pain.  
“Actually, “Deaton mused “That is a good question.”  
“What tree waving? Did this tree wave? How? When?” Stiles seemed surprised.  
“Not even you are that stupid Stilinski, surely?” Jackson snarked.  
“Go away Lizard Breath”  
“Make me Tree Boy”

Stiles glared at the blond and was opening his mouth for another verbal salvo when suddenly one of the branches of his tree bent down and slapped Jackson into the air like a golfer teeing off.

“What the hell?” Jackson cried as he crashed through the branches of the neighbouring trees and to the ground about fifty yards away.

Stiles was just staring at the broken branches with shock.

“I think I have found a solution to your problem.” Deaton said with authority “You’re just over-thinking things”  
“But it hurts. I don’t want it to hurt anymore. I’m tired of hurting.”   
“It may hurt a little, but it’s the only way” Deaton said “Just imagine yourself exiting the tree”  
“Try it son, please”

Stiles closed his eyes and tried to relax his tense muscles, and then he tried to stand and walk out of the tree.   
It was obvious that the attempt was causing pain. As the pain increased, Stiles tried harder, which seemed to just make the pain get worse.

“Stiles stop thinking about it so hard and just do it!” His father shouted, having seen a slight progress just before Stiles began to look so scared.   
Stiles was getting himself worked up into a fit.

“Stiles! Stop being a weak human and just get here now!” Derek shouted, no, roared as his face wolfed out and his eyes shone a bright red. He was definitely using his Alpha voice on Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes snapped open and a look of mingled betrayal and fury shot across his face.   
Less than a second later he was up in Derek’s face shouting at him.

“How DARE you say that to me! After all the times I...”  
“You’re out” Derek said simply “I’m so sorry. You must know I didn’t mean that. I just needed you to stop thinking about...”

Stiles, realising that he was finally free of the wooden prison almost collapsed in relief and exhaustion. Only Derek’s quick arms around him held him up. Stiles began to cry, trying to hide his tears from the others. 

“I’m not crying! I just... I got some dirt in my eyes or something.”

Derek said nothing. He just glared at Jackson and Scott, as if daring them to speak and held Stiles a little tighter.

“Derek, could you carry Stiles back to the Patrol car. I don’t want him to exert himself until we’ve had a chance for Deaton and Melissa to check him out”  
“Dad!” Stiles whined like a four year old.

Derek just nodded and before Stiles could do more than let out an undignified squawk he was being carried, bridal style, and Derek was already heading for the Hale house.

“Put me down you big lug!”

Derek said nothing, but shifted Stiles’ weight slightly so his face was now mashed up against Derek’s upper chest, muffling the sound slightly.   
Walking behind them Jackson turned in shock to his girlfriend, who simply smirked at him and nodded significantly.

“I told you that you were being jealous for no reason”

John and Melissa exchanged wry nods to each other while Deaton simply smiled slightly.

Scott was looking puzzled and confused until they had reached the car and Deaton had offered him a lift back to the Stilinski home.   
Derek was carefully loading Stiles into the back of the patrol car, then climbing in after him. Stiles once again seemed out of things, almost to the point of falling asleep. As Derek slid into the seat next to the semi-comatose boy, Stiles reached out and snuggled into his chest and neck. Derek’s only response was to wrap his arm around the boy and rest his head against Stiles’ buzz cut.

“Oh My GOD!!!!” Scott looked as though the entire world had just changed.  
“Shut up and get in the car” Melissa pointed at Deaton’s SUV and glared at her son. “You do not get to make any comment nor do nor say anything about anything young man. Do you understand me?”

Scott nodded silently and got in the car as ordered.

“Do you need us to come too?” Lydia asked the Sherriff.  
“I don’t know” was the honest answer.  
“I’ll come just in case” Lydia smiled as she patted the Sherriff’s arm “I’m so glad you’re not being weird about that. Stiles deserves a shot at something good, and Derek may be scary but he really is a good guy you know”

John couldn’t help but laugh.  
“That’s what Stiles said! Over and over and over”  
“He always has had a way with words”


	4. Taming Your Inner Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite wordy, Isaac makes an appearance. Things happen and Stiles freaks out... again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for the conversation. If it is hard to read, try reading it aloud (esp with different voices) and remember, most real life conversations tend to overlap a lot  
> Hopefully the conversation isn't too hard to follow

Stiles was glaring across his room, his arms folded and a pout of biblical proportions appearing on his face. 

He was so bored. 

Boredom was his life now. 

Endless boring days of nothing interesting loomed boringly before him. 

He was going to ossify.  
Ossify was a good word. 

Stiles liked words.  
He needed more words, he decided. 

My laptop is on the desk, he thought to himself.  
The internet is full of words. It’s only four feet away, on my desk.  
Four feet.  
Slightly more than a yard. Much, much less than a mile. Hardly anything really. Less than a body length. Practically right next to me. Just over there. Close. Definitely close. Close would be the word almost anyone would use to describe that distance. 

Except maybe a proton. 

Protons are small.  
That distance would be like crossing a galaxy for a proton. What would a proton think about crossing a galaxy?  
Do protons think? Would that be cool or scary, if protons could think? What they would think about? Are protons happy? Sad? Do protons get bored? Do they get angry? No, they’re always positive. Ha! Physics joke! Positive! Proton joke! What sort of jokes would a proton tell? Would they tell jokes to their electron buddies? Do protons and electrons fight all the time, or are they attracted to each other? I mean, sure they’re attracted to each other, but do they like each other or just find each other attractive? Opposites attract and all that. Do protons get frustrated with the constant negativity from their electron boo? Do they cuddle?  
I wonder if the neutrons ever have to like, marriage counsel or something.  
Maybe electrons are like Eeyore?  
Depressed and sad all the time, but still a friend.  
Derek is like Eeyore.  
Only he’s a wolf, not a donkey. 

What would a weredonkey look like? Would they lose their eyebrows too? Weredonkey sounds silly though. Weremule? Wereass? Whereas, my learned friend for the defence is... meh, boring, back to Wereasses. Derek’s ass... mmm... I’m a proton and Derek is an electron and together we make... Hydrogen! Hydrogen is awesome! Hydrogen has amazing abs too... Well, the electron does...  
I should go get my laptop.  
Probably hundreds of emails to go through

Tweets  
Instagram  
Pins  
Tumblr  
My social media life is abuzz  
...  
Buzz buzz buzz  
Hope the little guy didn’t get eaten  
Bzzz  
...  
... ... soooooo bored.....  
...  
...  
... ...  
Bzzz  
...  
Maybe I could just...

“Stiles! Get back in bed this instant!” John’s voice was distant, but loud. He was obviously shouting from the living room.

Stiles’ foot had barely touched the ground. Even though his bedroom door was open how the hell had his father...?

“Which traitor wolf is downstairs with you? Tell them I will revenge myself upon them! One day, when they least suspect my revenge, I will enact my revenge and my revenge will be... um... awesome...? and revengey!”  
“Stay in that bed!”  
“I’m booooored!”  
“Better bored than stuck in a tree again!”  
“You don’t know that! What if my boredom makes me do something even worse? I could set fire to my curtains; or transmute my desk into polonium; or summon a tsunami or... or... tear a hole in the fabric of the universe! Do you really want to be responsible for tearing a hole in the universe?  
“You are not going to tear a whole in the universe”

Stiles flailed dramatically as his father’s voice came from his still open doorway.

“I’m dying of boredom here Dad. I’ve had nothing to do since we got back”  
“It’s been two hours Stiles. Two hours. You were asleep for most of it”  
“I’m thirsty, I could just...”  
“No”  
“Is Melissa back?”  
“No”  
“Deaton?”  
“No”  
“Where’s Derek?”  
“You know he’s gone to try to find Peter”  
Is he back?  
“No”  
“Scott?”  
“Grounded at home”  
“Can I...”  
“No”  
“Could Lydia come up and talk to me at least?”  
“Lydia has gone home to see about arranging some time for all of us at her mother’s lake house. Deaton thinks getting away from the immediate influence of that Nemowhatsit might help”  
“She left Jackson behind?”  
“No, Jackson was her lift, remember? He drove her home”  
“Then who...?”  
“I’ve got Isaac downstairs; he’s been helping me fix that cupboard hinge in the kitchen”  
“I said I’d fix that!”  
“You said that three months ago Stiles”  
“I got distracted! It doesn’t count if it’s less than a year!”  
“Well anyway, Isaac has been most helpful, and very polite. No trouble at all in fact! I’m thinking of trading you in for him, but I’m not sure if Derek will agree”  
“He would!” Isaac’s voice echoed from the stairwell.  
“I annoy Derek too much, you’re stuck with me old man”  
“You don’t, you know” Isaac said softly as he came through the door.  
“Annoy him I mean. Well, maybe a little, or a lot actually, but he’s used to you. You’re kind of like a squeaky floorboard that he automatically remembers to step over, or a dripping tap, or persistently stubborn athlete’s foot”  
“You should go into stand-up Isaac, seriously, maybe start by standing up under a cement truck as it’s laying a foundation?”  
“Well that’s nice! And after I made you a delicious herbal tea and everything!”  
“Is it one of Deaton’s?” Stiles was making a face  
“Please, those are horrible, it’s Twinings, the English brand Lydia likes. She got me onto them. This one is made from my own personal stock, because I like you, or at least I used to”  
“What is it? Oh, and you know I love you too Isaac”  
“It’s green tea with gingerbread spices in it. I like it because it calms me down without making me sleepy”  
“It certainly smells nice Isaac. Stiles drink your tea”  
“Can Isaac stay and talk to me”  
“Please, Stiles, when has anyone you’ve talked with ever been allowed to talk?”  
“Rude! Tea! Tea!”  
Stiles made grabby hands at the cup, which tore itself out of Isaac’s grasp and flew into Stiles’ outstretched fingers.  
“You didn’t see that”

John just sighed and went back downstairs.

“Seriously though Stiles, I thought we’d finally made the breakthrough everyone in the pack has been hoping for. The UST was making my hair go straight”  
“UST? There is no UST”  
“You mean you and Derek have finally done it?”  
“What!?”

Stiles flailed and his tea flew into the air with the violence of his motion. It did not, however fall to the ground. Instead it stayed in midair like... a floating ball of liquid, before sliding back into his now still mug again in an almost embarrassed manner.

“You didn’t see that either”  
...  
“So, you and Derek huh?”  
“There is no me and Derek”  
“You were snuggling when I got here”  
“No we weren’t”  
“I saw it”  
“I didn’t, it didn’t happen”  
“You were asleep Stiles!”  
“Derek doesn’t like me like that”  
“Do you really not remember the events of the past few hours? Things have been said, words have been exchanged”  
“I don’t remember that”  
“Here look! Lydia sent this to everyone”

Isaac took his phone from his pocket and showed Stiles a picture of himself, sleepily smiling as he gazed into Derek’s eyes while the older man was carrying him bridal style, smiling faintly down at him as he walked.

“Derek can smile?”  
“He likes you dumbass!”  
“No”  
“Stiles!”  
“No! He just feels guilty”  
“He told you he likes you! Derek Hale actually used words and talked about feelings!”  
“I... he did? Why do I not remember this?”  
“Because you’re a dumbass?”  
“I feel I should remember that”  
“You were in and out of consciousness for ages. You fainted at least twice”  
“I did not faint!”  
“You did”  
“No, at worst I may have passed out”  
“You fainted Stiles, I was there for one of them”  
“Passed out”  
“Actually, it was more of a swoon. You swooned in Derek’s manly arms”  
“I am not Elizabeth Bennet”  
“You’re right, she’d be much less dorky”  
“Why did I pass out?”  
“Deaton didn’t say”  
“Deaton never says”  
“Oh good, so it’s not just me then”  
“Why do I not remember this?”  
“Do you usually remember things that happen when you’ve fainted...?”

“Passed out. Men pass out...”  
“...Derek was really scared when you just went limp...”  
“...I’ve had way worse things happen to me and not passed out...”  
“...he just kept stroking the side of your face, it was gross...”  
“...if I can keep conscious after bloody Gerard...”  
“...I think he may have cried a little...”  
“...maybe whatever I did used up a lot of blood sugar...?”  
“...your Dad had to hug him to get him to calm down...”  
“...but if that’s what happened, why am I not starving now...?”  
“...your Dad said it was probably just a reaction to the blood Melissa took...”  
“...maybe I have a disease? Or an aneurysm...?”  
“...he said you usually faint when you get blood taken...”  
“...I... what? Blood tests? What?”  
“Melissa took some blood, for testing. She gave some to Deaton too so he could do some sort of magic test things to it. So we can figure out what happened to you”

Stiles sat quietly and sipped his tea. It really was good.

“Isaac...”  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m a little scared, but don’t tell anyone”  
“I will take your secret to the grave”  
“Thanks Isaac”  
“But you did faint”  
“Ass”  
“You really don’t remember what’s been happening?”  
“I remember bits. I thought the Derek things were just my imagination”  
“You remember them now?”  
“Some... I think... I remember him yelling at me when I was in the tree”  
“He did, but he felt so guilty about that, you might want to tell him you forgive him”  
“I will. He loves to wallow in his man-pain doesn’t he?”  
“We all have our demons”  
“Oh my God! What if I’m a demon?”  
“Why would you be a demon?”  
“Why would I not be a demon?”  
“I’m pretty sure you can’t just become a demon Stiles”  
“I wasn’t aware that people could flow through the ground for several miles and embed themselves halfway through a tree and not die, but that happened”  
“I’m just saying, don’t assume you’re becoming a demon without a little more evidence”  
“Well, what would be evidence?”  
“I don’t know. I’m the stylish and attractive muscle in this partnership, you’re the nerd”  
“I will set fire to all your scarves!”  
“Most of my scarves are kept at Derek’s new loft. Do you really want to risk burning his home down for the second time in his life?”  
“I’ll burn them one by one then, while you’re wearing them”  
“No you won’t”  
“I could”  
“Because you’re a demon?”  
“Exactly!”  
“You don’t smell like a demon”  
“How do we know what a demon is supposed to smell like?”  
“Sulphur, Brimstone, Ozone and rotting flesh; you looked it up when we were trying to work out what was killing people”  
“Oh... So do I...?”  
“No Stiles, you smell like tea, dirt, tree sap and Derek’s cooties”  
“Why am I not hungry?”  
“Well that’s not a non sequitur”  
“No, I’m serious. I ate a boiled egg and two pieces of soft bread last night, because my teeth were still a little loose from Gerard’s tender mercies”  
Isaac growled in barely suppressed anger.  
“It’s ok Scarfwolf, whatever has been happening has an upside. All healed now... well, almost. It's just that I've had nothing to eat since then”  
“Stiles, it’s nearly 4pm”  
“Exactly, I’m a teenage boy. These are my prime eating years; I should be as ravenous as a wolf by now, no offence, instead I’m feeling a bit weak, but not hungry at all. What if I can never eat again?”  
“You managed to drink your tea alright”  
“Does that count as food?”  
“It might to models”  
“Reeses! In my desk drawer, fetch Scarfy, fetch!”  
“I can hurt you Stiles, and I will”  
“Try and your scarf is ash!”

Stiles snapped his fingers dramatically and his entire hand and forearm burst into flame.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Isaac grabbed the comforter off the bed and wrapped the hand in it to stifle the flames. John came running into the room breathing as though he had run up a flight of stairs. 

“What happened?”  
“Stiles thinks he’s a demon”  
“You are not a demon Stiles”  
“And he may or may not have set his arm on fire”  
“I’ll call Melissa”  
“No, it’s ok, it doesn’t hurt. It just scared me”

Isaac carefully unwrapped the arm.  
It was still burning, but the blanket was not singed at all.

“I told you I could set my curtains on fire if I got too bored!”

He waved his hands dramatically in the direction of his window. Flames flew from his hand and the curtains caught fire.

“I’ll go get the extinguisher” Isaac shouted as he wolfed down the stairs.  
“Stiles!”  
“Sorry Dad”


	5. Friendship Is Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A restful few days at the Lake House? Mostly conversation (but that's how you communicate!)  
> Enter Danny! (all sunshine and rainbows! awwww)  
> Watch cut-throat negotiations between Stiles and his Dad (hint- it's about meals)  
> But the Sherriff gets his revenge!  
> Oh, and someone gets kissed (but who?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's wordy (not as wordy as last chapter) but honestly, Stiles talks a lot, of COURSE it's going to have lots of words!  
> I have guesstimated the ending point for this fic (at least) but I reserve the right to shorten or lengthen as the muse bitches at me.  
> Reviews are good - I find them motivational.  
> Yes, I know! I reposted it because I forgot to put a title on it! (I've left all the typos and spelling errors though)

“Please stop sulking Stiles, you are not responsible for everything bad that has ever happened anywhere in the world; no one is blaming you for Global Warming; you did not shoot JFK and for the last time you are not a demon!”

The Sherriff was tired, worried and trying really hard not to shout at his son, but it was getting harder and harder.

“Please listen to your father Stiles, it’s not all your fault”

Melissa was sitting in the back rubbing a towel through her slightly damp hair.

“I made it rain Dad”  
“It has rained before Stiles”  
“I made it rain INSIDE THE CAR”  
“The lightning didn’t hurt me Stiles, it just surprised me” Melissa leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder over the back of the seat.  
“You were just upset about me driving Roscoe. We’ve already worked out it gets worse when you get emotional. You do understand why we can’t let you drive, don’t you son?”

Stiles contemplated sinking back into his sulk.

“I just wish Scott could come with us”  
“He is still grounded Stiles, not just for what he has been doing to you, but for all the other things he’s just been let slide with during all this wolf crap” Melissa was obviously no longer volcanic in her anger with her son, but she was still on a vigorous simmer.  
“Plus someone has to stay behind to keep an eye on things”  
“Scott won’t notice anyone or anything except Allison”  
“That might be hard for him to do, since she’s already at the lake with Lydia and Jackson”  
“She is?”  
“She said she needed to get away for a bit too. With her mother’s death and the business with her Grandfather and Kate, she needs a chance to get her head sorted. She did say she would leave if her presence would upset you though, but she also asked if she could apologise to you in person for her ‘crazy mental illness moment’ and what she let Gerard do to you and to Erica and Boyd”  
“I’ve forgiven her for that. She was played by an expert, and already emotionally traumatised. I know exactly how it feels when bad shit keeps happening and you can’t shovel fast enough”  
“Isaac and Peter will keep Scott in line” the Sherriff grunted, “and Chris has been a lot more helpful since I had a talk with him”  
“Did you threaten him with your gun Dad?”  
“No, I showed him the outstanding warrants several of his men had in the system”  
“He let Hunters with...?”  
“Your friend Danny is a surprisingly helpful young man when approached politely”  
“You falsified police reports? Dad, did you force my friend to commit a felony for you?”  
“No, I got a young man who is well known for his skill with computer systems to help out the old fogey who can’t make his system work efficiently, find where the blank warrants could be found and paid him to tutor said fogey in how to use the system properly; you know, make some sample warrants up for practice”

“You bribed him?”  
“I officially offered him a part-time contract to work with our systems, both streamlining things and also tutoring the Deputies and me in how to work everything. I’d been meaning to do something like it for ages. We can’t keep relying on you to come in twice a year and half kill yourself updating the records”  
“I’ll have to thank him next time I see him”  
“Which should be in about two minutes, he’s at the lake too”  
“Is there anyone who isn’t waiting at the lake?”  
“I think the Pope sent his apologies”  
“Ha, ha old man”  
“What about...?”  
“He’s about half an hour behind us. He had to make sure Peter understood how far he was allowed to traumatise Scott”  
“Isaac will protect the big doofus”  
“I’m not so sure” Melissa said “Isaac isn’t happy with Scott ignoring you, and he’s very unhappy with Scott’s continual bagging out of Derek”  
“Is Scott still going on about how Derek is responsible for all his problems?” the Sherriff was frowning.  
“Isaac will get really pissed at that. Derek is the one who gave him a chance to get away from his private family hell. No matter how much he wants to be Scott’s best bud he’s not going to let anyone trash the man who ripped the lid off that freezer and smacked his dad across the face with it”  
“We’re here!” the Sherriff pulled the jeep to a halt beside Jackson’s Porsche and a large, black SUV which screamed ‘Argent’.

Lydia stood on the porch of the large wooden house, perched on a small hill at the edge of a pristine lake. Allison and Danny were already moving towards the back of the jeep to help carry bags. Jackson started moving also after a sharp word from his girlfriend. Stiles unfolded his long legs from the car and helped Melissa get down from the back seat. 

“Hey Danny!” He smiled as he shouldered his backpack and turned towards the house.  
“Stilinski” Danny smiled back.

Stiles had a sudden thought and whispered frantically to his father.

“What happens if I go all Potter while Danny is here?”  
“Lydia assures me that won’t be a problem”  
“Why not?”  
“Because you and Scott and the rest of the supernatural mafia of Beacon Hills have three issues: you’re all incapable of speaking at less than a loud conversational level; you forgot that Jackson is my mostly-heterosexual platonic life-partner and he will eventually crack and spill everything if I apply enough pressure and you and Lydia also forgot that I am running a very close third for Valedictorian and am more than capable of assembling enough clues to work out what is really going on around here, no matter how much I found it a logical stretch”  
“Oh”  
“Plus, ‘Miguel’? Even I am capable of recognising a wanted felon hiding in your bedroom after seeing his picture enough times on the news”  
“You didn’t say anything”  
“He had his shirt off, I figured I could let it slide”

“Should I be hearing this?” Sherriff Stilinski asked as he grabbed Melissa’s medical kit from the back seat.  
“Uh...”  
“Oh good, my periodic deafness has reoccurred. I’d better go and have some burgers to help alleviate it”  
“No bacon!”  
“Wait... I’m hearing something”  
“Two pieces of bacon, on one burger, only one slice of cheese, but I’ll let you have two beers with dinner. That’s my final offer”  
“I’ll take it”  
“If you fill up on salad first I might even give you a treat for breakfast”  
“Treat?” Melissa asked, her brow rising.  
“Stiles means an egg-white omelette. He thinks anything cooked in a frypan is a ‘treat’, even if it’s fat free and tasteless”  
“If you’re willing to forgo the cheese on tonight’s burger, I was thinking of relaxing the rules and making pancakes in the morning. I’d even let you have a whole stack”  
“How many is a stack?”  
“Four”  
“Actually, maybe just one piece of bacon on my burger, and just the one beer”  
“Six then, and I’ll let you put syrup on them, and one pat of butter”  
“Oh my God! I’ll take it” John practically ran into the house.

Danny smirked at Stiles.  
“You are a truly evil person”  
“I know, sometimes it keeps me up nights”  
“I’ll go put these in Melissa’s room; I think Allison wants to talk to you”

Danny swung the bag onto his shoulder, which made his biceps bulge in a most distracting way and led Melissa to the room Lydia had assigned her. Stiles turned to see Allison returning from the house after her first trip.

“Stiles, I just want to...”

Stiles just dropped the bag he had taken from the car and wrapped the nervous girl in a hug worthy of a giant koala.

“You were messed up, upset and played. Your entire world had been tossed about till you didn’t know what to believe or who to trust. You shouldn’t have done most of the things you did, but you feel sorry for your actions now and are willing to try to make amends with all those you hurt... how am I going?”  
“Have you been reading my diary?”  
“I just know what it feels like Ally. It’s sort of been my life for... for way too long really. It’s all forgiven, just don’t electrocute or shoot my friends again. Unless they’re possessed or crazy or mad on wolfs bane fumes or something, then try to aim for maiming ok? No disintegrations!”  
“What about Scott?”  
“I’ve been a bit of a dick about you and Scott to be honest, which I rarely am to tell the truth. Don’t let my issues with Scott get between the two of you though. You’re kind of sickening but I’m getting used to it by now”  
“I’m not sure I want to be in a relationship with someone who can betray his best friend like that”  
“Scott isn’t a bad person. That’s actually his problem. He sees the world in very simplistic terms; black and white; good and bad; right and wrong; safe and risky. When faced with a complicated moral choice like the one he was faced with, he went for the easy out, he usually does. He gets tunnel vision about one thing, like, ‘protecting his mother’ or ‘anything for Allison’. He still doesn’t even realise why I’m so hurt, or what he did wrong. He hasn’t even seen that there were other, better choices he could have made at the time. His obsession with blaming everything on Derek is the same. Forget who actually bit him, or who started it all in the first place, Derek is the big bad, and nothing will shake Morality McCall from his quest to save us all from corruption.”

“It’s one of the reasons I love him” Allison sighed.

“Me too, but it gets really annoying sometimes”

“I hear that!”

“Usually, in the past I’ve sort of acted as his filter. I parse the information, offer Scott simplified choices with the outline of the consequences of each choice and let him learn slowly. But with you in the picture everything in his mind got skewed towards ‘human good/wolf bad’ and anyone or anything that tried to argue that he would never be able to be just a human again became something to be ignored at best or attacked at worst. I’m already pretty close to forgiving him for what he did to me. But it’s going to take a lot of grovelling and some pretty serious changes before I’ll forgive him for what he did to Derek”  
“I can’t imagine how Derek has been able to even look me in the face without vomiting, after all the shit my family has done to him over the years”  
“Derek is a lot stronger than anyone gives him credit for, even me. I think, without all the crap he’s had since he was 15, he might have been just like Scott, but smarter about it. That’s another reason they clash all the time”  
“You really care for him, don’t you?”  
“Who? Scott or Derek”  
“Both”  
“Scott will always be my brother, no matter how much he hurts me or the people I care for. I might get mad at him, and not like him very much for a while, but I’ll always love him”  
“And Derek?”

“He scares me; not that way! I mean... I have had a crush on Lydia for over ten years now, because it’s been easier to love someone who I knew I could never have. That way I would never really feel the pain of rejection if I tried to make something happen and failed, and I wouldn’t get hurt by losing them if... when things went wrong. I started crushing on Derek for the same reason, because he was out of my league and unobtainable, and therefore safe. Now I suddenly discover that he actually likes me, possibly in ‘that’ way, and I’m scared out of my wits. I don’t let people in very often, because I don’t know how to let go. The only way I let people leave me is if someone breaks my fingers and tears them away from me. That happened once, and I won’t let it happen again. I can’t afford to let too many people in, because I only have so many fingers to hold them with”  
“So... Derek?”  
“Damn him and his stupid bunny teeth and his stupid perfect body and his stupid noble man-pain and his stupid caring and stupid hidden depths. He’s already in; it’s too late to raise the walls now”  
“You’re a good person Stiles, and a good friend”  
“You too Ally, luckily I have a couple of spare fingers left for you!”

Stiles and Allison linked pinkies without having to talk about it and strolled into the house.

“Stiles, your room is this way” Lydia smiled at him as she moved down the wooden floored corridor towards the lake-side of the house “Most of the bedrooms are upstairs, but I thought you would like a little privacy”

She met his gaze and smiled sympathetically. Stiles remembered the conversation they had shared about his nightmares and the guilt he always felt after waking up his dad or Scott with his screams.

“This place was built for my grandmother’s mother, so it’s old and solid and sound doesn’t travel very well” Lydia murmured into his ear as Allison gently squeezed his hand.

The room was large and gorgeous and seemed to be set up almost as some sort of granny-flat. Set into the corner of the house two walls were dominated by huge French windows; one offering a breathtaking view of the lake while the other showed the lush woodlands that grew almost to the water’s edge. A large queen sized bed surveyed the room from one of the other walls and there was still just enough room for a freestanding desk looking out the lake window and an enormous sofa overlooking the woods.

“Grandma set this room up for herself when her arthritis got too bad for the stairs. The sofa folds out into a double bed if we need to do that later”  
“How many rooms are there in this house?”  
“Six all up, including this one; I’m sharing with Jackson; Allison is sharing with Melissa and Danny, Deaton and your Dad will have their own rooms”  
“Where is Derek sleeping?” Stiles frowned a little.  
“In here of course”

Stiles was very proud that he only flailed a little bit.

“What? I mean... my Dad can’t be happy about that”  
“It was his idea” Allison smiled her Disney Princess grin, “He said we might as well plan for it, since the first time you had a nightmare or got upset he’d be in here anyway”  
“You’re not going to make me have to go find bedding for the sofa bed, are you Stiles?” Lydia was staring at him.  
“I don’t get a say about this at all, do I?”

Allison just grinned again and kissed him goodbye.

“I’m going to go chat with my roomie, see you at dinner!”  
“I’m going to go supervise the boys so we actually get dinner” Lydia said “Stiles, the windows open out onto the deck that wraps around this side of the house. The cords here and here are how you can close the drapes to block out the sun. Use them or not, but you will be waking up with the dawn if you don’t; this window faces west but the sun reflects off the lake something fierce.”

Lydia waved her hand out towards the lake.

“There are lounge beds on the deck. There’s still enough light if you want to read. Grandma’s bookcase is over there, and she had some damn good novels in it, so feel free to borrow some. There might even be a couple of her old herbals in there, she was a botanist you know, that’s where I first got my exposure to Latin, from learning all the scientific names of the plants”

Stiles just nodded, still more than a little freaked out about the sleeping arrangements.

“Oh, and Stiles...” Lydia paused in the doorway, “maybe you should choose a side?”  
“Side?” Stiles wasn’t really firing on all cylinders just at the moment.  
“Of the bed” with a huge grin she left in a flurry of perfume and wickedness.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Stiles was lying in one of the loungers on the deck, surrounded by notepads, his laptop, a bag of brazil nuts, a can of sparkling iced tea, his backpack, assorted pencils and had one of the huge leather bound herbals across his lap.  
He was also fast asleep.  
Derek was sitting on the deck with his back to the lake, leaning against one of the support pillars for the upper stories, his gaze soft and his mouth just slightly open to reveal what Stiles loved to teasingly call ‘the Were-bunny’. He was looking, but not staring at the sleeping Stiles.  
Sherriff Stilinski and Melissa McCall both felt guilty as the sound of their approach around the side of the veranda caused Derek’s chiselled features to harden slightly, and his relaxed body to tense, just a little. 

“You love him, don’t you?” John asked softly.

Derek looked into their eyes with tears refusing to fall from his own.

“I don’t know why”

Melissa just nodded sadly and smiled.

“You never do”

Derek grimaced as he stretched his back.

“All this time, I’ve been trying to drive him away. I’ve been trying to get him to break away from all the supernatural crap that he just fell into. At first I thought it was because he was a liability. He was so uncoordinated and reckless; I was sure he’d get us all killed”

John and Melissa just nodded. They knew Stiles better than almost anyone.

“Then I thought it was because he annoyed me. He’d never let anything just lie. He had to question every decision, every plan, every order... He’d challenge my authority; make the others question me... I thought he was convinced I was useless and stupid”  
“Stiles never handles orders well”  
“Then I wanted him out because he deserved better. He was the only one who never betrayed me. He would question me constantly, but he never doubted me. I thought he deserved a chance at a normal life. None of the rest of us can just walk away, not even Lydia, but he could”  
“No, he couldn’t. Stiles can’t walk away when the people he love need him”  
“But Scott...”  
“Not just Scott” Melissa was smiling again “He loves you too. He always calls Scott his best friend, but really I think that’s Lydia’s role. Scott is his brother. Isaac, Erica, Boyd? They’re like younger cousins that he feels the need to protect and guide. Allison is like a sister. I don’t know about Danny yet”

“Stiles even feels responsible for ‘Creepy Uncle Peter’” John sighed  
“One of his most recurring nightmares is setting him on fire you know? Not the killing part, Stiles is far too pragmatic for that to be a serious issue, but using fire to do it really messed him up. He understands just how terrified of fire Peter must be after everything that happened”

Derek’s jaw tensed a little and his gaze looked even more troubled.

“It’s dangerous. I’m dangerous”  
“Stiles doesn’t care”  
“He should”  
“He won’t”  
“He’ll die too young”  
“I thought Claudia and I would be forever; and we are. But she only lived for eleven years after we met. She died too young, but even knowing that, I’m too damned selfish to wish for anything to have been different. If an angel of God told me that she could live a long and happy life, but only if I never met her, and Stiles was never born... I’m too damned selfish to take up the offer. People always get the problem wrong. It’s not about changing the bad things in the past, what you’re really doing is killing the old person, the one with the problem or the illness or the tragedy and replacing them with a stranger you’re supposed to love instead of them”

Derek looked like his world was crumbling around him.

“You love him, and I’m damned certain that he loves you. It could last for years or he could die tomorrow. So could you. So could any of us. We can’t let fear of ‘what if’ stop us from trying”

Derek just nodded.

“Not to change the conversation at all” Derek smiled wryly, “But when do you get the result of Stiles’ blood tests?”  
“Arnie will email them to me tomorrow morning. He owes me a favour or three” Melissa grinned “I can always slip a few extra samples into most tests, but trying to flag anything as urgent is just asking for trouble”  
“And Deaton is getting here tomorrow morning too I believe?” John asked.

Melissa nodded.

“He could only take one full day away. He’s arranged a locum for any serious problems and Scott can handle the minor things until he gets back the day after”  
“Still no solutions?”  
“Deaton never tells until he can do it in front of everyone. It’s like waiting for Hercule Poirot to recap the events of the Ball and reveal who the murderer is”  
“So we should all assemble in the library or the conservatory when he gets here?” Derek grinned.

The sound of gentle laughter woke the sleeping Stiles. He didn’t exactly flail, but his movement was enough to cause the large book on his chest to begin sliding to the floor. Derek caught it before it could be damaged and as a result, when Stiles opened his eyes his face was only inches from Derek’s.

“Hi Sourwolf”

Derek’s sigh was epic.

“Dinner is in 10 minutes!” Melissa said brightly as she dragged the Sherriff back to the other side of the house.

Stiles just sat there for a few seconds.

“You knew, but you didn’t say anything”  
“I wasn’t sure when exactly...”  
“From ‘Creepy Uncle Peter’, his name tends to get my attention”  
“Are you ok?”  
“It always hurts to hear Dad talk about Mom, but it feels good too. Does that make sense?”

Derek just nodded sadly and helped Stiles pack up his stuff. Moving back into the room, Derek seemed to tense again.

“If this is a problem I can...”  
“You’re on the left, ok Sourwolf? I figured you’d prefer to be closer to the door and both windows, instincts and all...”  
“Stiles...”  
“I should warn you that I snore sometimes, and I talk in my sleep. Scott says I kick too, and sometimes I sleepwalk, but not for ages, oh, and I am a bit of a cuddler, but he says that stopped being weird after the first few times and...”  
“Stiles...”  
“Derek... can I kiss you?”

Derek looked shocked, but nodded curtly.

It wasn’t the epic cinematic kiss that Stiles had half been dreading; nor the explosive sexual firework that he’d been half hoping for (along with the dread). Instead it was just... right. Their faces aligned without too much negotiation required. Their lips pressed together, chaste and sweet. There was no tongue, no overwhelming passion just... it was just right. It was right the way sunrises and rainbows and trees were right. It was simple, and probably boring to watch, but it was the most perfect thing Stiles had ever imagined possible. It was the most perfect thing Derek had ever imagined possible.

Derek felt his entire being shift slightly into alignment with this man he was holding in his arms. He became intimately aware of Stiles’ heartbeat. It had always been easier to pick from a crowd than any other rhythm, but now Derek knew that he would always be able to find it, no matter how many other noises there were. 

The kiss, simple though it was, had lasted for some time now. Stiles and Derek became aware of two things. The first was a need for oxygen. The second was Lydia’s voice, loud and piercing, echoing throughout the entire house saying...

“Stiles! Whatever it is you are doing could you please stop. It’s starting to freak me out”

Derek and Stiles looked at each other, slightly flushed but smiling, then looked around the room.  
It was movement from the lake that drew their attention. Where the calm, sparkling surface had been was now a riot of ripples and rainbows. Huge fountains of water rose from the lake’s surface to fall back into it with tinkling diamonds in the setting sunlight. Rivers of water flowed through the air in intricate patterns. It was beautiful.

“How the hell...?”  
“What’s wrong?” Derek asked as Stiles frowned at the display.  
“Rainbows?”  
Derek was puzzled “I can see them too”  
“No!” Stiles shook his head “the sun is on the other side of the lake. To make a rainbow, the light source has to be behind the viewer, not behind the water vapour!”  
“Really? That’s what gets you concerned?”  
“Hey! I’m still here, I’m not stuck in anything and nothing is burning or radioactive. I count this one as a win!”

A translucent unicorn made of water galloped the length of one of the rainbows and plunged back into the lake. Others were following it.

“Ok... spoke too soon”


	6. You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek bond (and get embarrassed)   
> Bad News from town  
> Derek uses LOTS of words  
> Someone gets very badly hurt  
> Stiles gets mad, Derek gets mad, Allison gets... actually EVERYONE gets mad  
> Stiles is a very very scary teacher (but upside...? no exams)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of some nasty stuff in this (not descriptions of, just threats of) but we're talking bad stuff, so if triggered easily, read with a supportive friend handy?

Stiles sat, chewing his burger, resolutely refusing to face the window of the dining room. Danny and Jackson had done a great job, he had to admit. His burger was even cooked medium rare, the way he liked his steak. At first Melissa had been concerned about possible food poisoning, since ground beef was notorious for things like that if not cooked all the way through. After Jackson had explained that he and Danny had minced the chuck steak only minutes before stirring the other ingredients in and then grilling the patties she had been much more relaxed, and had ordered her own medium rare as well. His father was sticking to their bargain, so far, and had eaten not one, but two bowls of a mixed greens salad because of the ‘extra special dressing’ Lydia had made using a bottle of red-wine vinegar that had to be nearly fifty years old. Stiles was all for dressings that made his dad eat more salad, especially since the only fat in the dressing was a swig of extra-virgin olive oil. After John had taken the first forkful of salad it was obvious that he would be eating more. His face had lit up like a Christmas tree and his burger had sat neglected until halfway through the second bowl.

Stiles planned on making a fruit compote to go with his dad’s pancakes tomorrow, as a reward.

No, dinner was a quiet and uneventful affair.

Totally boring, nothing weird going on in the dining room at all.

“The rainbows are finally going out” Danny said sadly as he sat looking out at the lake.

The sun had finally set more than an hour ago, but the strange beings and their antics had amused everyone for most of the meal. How a rainbow could be self illuminating was beyond even Lydia to explain.

Stiles just chewed at his last burger and concentrated on not biting his tongue, or his lip (again)

“It’s alright Stiles” Derek murmured into his ear, “No one got hurt. In fact, I thought the unicorns were kind of sweet”

Derek had pulled Stiles onto his lap as soon as it became apparent that he was in one of his sulks again and had spent the entire meal with one or both arms wrapped around the boy’s lithe chest.  
Jackson had seemed about to make a comment until Lydia had speared a rogue tomato from her plate with her fork and held it contemplatively in front of her for a few moments. Jackson’s wince when she bit into it had almost made Stiles smile. Almost.   
Allison had gone upstairs to freshen up after dinner and came back at this point with a worried look on her face.

“Dad just sent me a message. He heard that a group of Hunters were planning to visit Beacon Hills and he was able to warn them off. But they were already in the area, so he said to be careful out here. We’re still technically inside the county lines, but we’re far enough from the city that a group of gung-ho Hunters might be willing to risk annoying the resident Hunter family to stir up some trouble”  
“Does he have any information on how compliant with the code this group are?” Stiles dragged himself out of his self-imposed dungeon and was suddenly all business.  
“They’ve never been accused of violating it, but rumour has it that some of the younger members have been known to poke the sleeping bear until it retaliates, and then they use that as an excuse for declaring them rogue. Nothing’s been proven but...”  
“If they try that shit here we end them; tell Chris to tell them that. Sorry Dad, I know, swear jar”

John blinked a little as he suddenly saw his awkward, happy-go-lucky son become someone he almost didn’t recognise; someone he was almost... scared of.

Derek held Stiles a little bit tighter, but his face remained unreadable. Only Jackson seemed to notice anything, as his nose wrinkled in disgust and he grimaced.

“Seriously? You get turned on by Scary Stiles?”

Stiles looked confused and unsure and wriggled uncomfortably in Derek’s lap as everyone suddenly stared at them. He was turning to ask Derek what Jackson meant, when suddenly his movement halted abruptly and his mouth went wide with shock. Both men slowly blushed a brilliant crimson as Derek just lowered his face to hide it in Stiles’ hair and neck. Danny looked torn between amusement and envy.

“We can traumatise Stiles later” Lydia said, smirking, “I see no problems unless we go wandering outside tonight. They won’t try anything on the house, surely?”  
“Derek, Jackson and I were planning on going for a run later” Allison frowned, “And I’m not letting anyone stop me. Did you want to come too Stiles? Danny?”  
“Is that a good idea?” the Sherriff asked.  
“I won’t go. I’d probably find a path into Narnia or start off Ragnarök or something equally dumb”  
“I could use some fresh air” Danny grinned.  
“But wouldn’t it be easier to just avoid any altercations and just stay in the house until we leave?” Melissa was frowning in worry.  
“It would be easier” Derek said “But I agree with Allison. This is supposed to be a free country. We’re not doing anything wrong. This is Lydia’s family property, for at least several miles right...?”  
Lydia nodded.  
“...so we have every right to use it as we want. I don’t want to even see these Hunters, let alone get into a fight with them. They can’t know we’re here tonight. The chances of us running into each other are pretty damned slim anyway. If we start to change how we live to avoid conflict with people like that, we are doing their work for them. They won’t have to oppress or discriminate against us eventually, we’ll do it ourselves”  
“Words! You used so many words!” Stiles was staring at Derek as he leaned into his chest.

Jackson’s nose wrinkled again and he shot to his feet.

“Seriously Stiles? Seriously? You two are as weird as each other. I’m going to go change. Someone open a goddamned window!”  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“What time is...?”  
“They’ve been gone just a little more than two hours Stiles! They’re only 15 minutes past when they thought they’d be back. I’m not going to let you panic for another half an hour, so deal with your shit and stop making the rest of us feel nervous”

Lydia was probably as tense as Stiles was, but she hid it better. (apart from a potty mouth when she got scared)

“That was Chris” the Sherriff said as he came back from where he had been talking on the phone “He says the Hunters contacted him about three hours ago about some sort of supernatural disturbance in the lake. They were going in to investigate. He was out with Peter and Isaac and didn’t read the email until just now”  
“Fuck!”  
“Stiles! Calm down son!”  
“No, I will not be calm. I’m done with calm. Calm is no longer in my lexicon. I hereby abjure calm, restraint, tolerance, Zen, chill, chillax, going with the flow and all other forms of not being worried. If they have... I’m going to...”  
“Where are you going?”  
“I’m fetching my bat”  
“Why?”  
“It’s a source of comfort and reassurance for me”  
“You are not taking your bat and wandering off into the woods at night to look for Hunters”  
“I wasn’t going to”  
“Oh?”  
“I’m going to STORM off into the forest, find the Hunters and repeatedly strike them about their persons with my baseball bat until they give me back my friends”  
“Comfort and reassurance huh?”  
“I’m comfortable with that action, and I would be reassured to have my friends returned to me”  
“You are not taking your bat into the forest”  
“Can I borrow your gun?”  
“Stiles!”  
“I’ve just... I have HAD it up to here with people thinking they can just hurt me, or Derek, or my friends and just no one does anything about it. I’m sick of it. I won’t let it... I can’t just sit here and... I have to do something!”  
“Chris is on his way, he’s bringing the others, including Scott. I called Deaton and he’s on his way too. We will wait till they get here, it’s only 45 minutes drive, and they’re already halfway here”  
“But what if...?”

Stiles broke off as a shout was heard from outside the house.

The group in the living room ran onto the veranda and around to the side of the house outside Stiles’ room. Coming from the woodlands they saw Derek and Jackson running from the trees. Danny was being carried bridal style in Jackson’s arms, while Allison clung to Derek’s back. She had a large bruise on her face, and what looked like the start of a black eye. Danny was unconscious and Derek was shirtless; his shirt wrapped around a wound in Danny’s shoulder. Even from here in the waning moonlight they could see it was still bleeding.

“I’ll get my kit!” Melissa ran back into the house.  
“What happened?” the Sherriff asked as the group stumbled back into the living room.  
“The Hunters were patrolling around the northern edge of the lake” Derek was still slightly breathless. “Jackson and I had already run past them before we spotted them, they were using some sort of scent maskers. When Danny ran up they drew their guns at him and shouted for him to stop. He was stopping, but before he could talk he tripped on a fallen branch and fell forward. One of the Hunters must have been already on a hair-trigger, because he fired and hit Danny in the shoulder”  
Melissa was already tending to the wound while Jackson drew Danny’s pain from him. Luckily he was still unconscious.  
“When Allison confronted them they panicked. An unprovoked attack, with the Argent Matriarch as a witness is a guaranteed way to earn the censure of the Hunter’s Council. The leader smashed her in the face with his rifle butt and they were talking about ‘hiding the evidence’. A couple of the men wanted to ‘have some fun’ first. I think they must have not seen us. We were outnumbered though so Jackson and I just grabbed Allison and Danny and hi-tailed it back here”

“We should have taught them a lesson” Jackson’s eyes were glowing blue and his face kept flickering between his human and beta form.  
“Danny was injured” Derek said firmly “His well being is more important than anything”  
“Will they try to follow you or run away?” Lydia asked.

The sound of several vehicles speeding up the long driveway leading from the road to the house was answer enough.

“We have a problem” Melissa’s voice was thick with tension.  
“We heard the cars” Lydia said.  
“No, Danny has a problem. I think the bullet contained Wolfsbane. He’s not a wolf, but it’s almost as poisonous to humans as it is to wolves. I have a small supply of atropine if his heart starts to go arrhythmic, but we need to get him to a hospital”  
“Would burning another bullet and using the ash help?” Stiles asked Derek urgently.  
“I don’t know. It might make things worse. Can we call Deaton?”  
“I’m on it!” Lydia was already dialling.  
“The Hunters are almost here” Allison growled “Dad says he’s about 15 minutes away”  
“I’ll go get my gun” the Sherriff was more forbidding than anyone had ever seen him before.

“Danny!” Melissa cried as her patient regained consciousness, but seemed to be in terrible distress. “His heart is racing; his pressure is through the roof. I’m giving him atropine but he needs drugs to regulate the rhythm that I just don’t have here”  
“Deaton says to try it if all else fails”

Jackson was pale and shaking now.

“Stiles... Stiles! Where is Stiles?” Derek had taken over from Jackson in relieving Danny’s pain and he spun around at the Sherriff’s panicked shout.

They heard several vehicles pulling up roughly on the gravel outside the house, followed by the front door slamming open. The Sherriff, Derek and Allison ran to the door while Jackson helped Melissa and Lydia held the phone to Melissa’s ear to get advice from an almost ‘not calm’ Deaton.

Several men were spilling out of the SUVs as Stiles stalked onto the porch and down the steps towards them.

“Well, look what we’ve got here boys...” began one of the men, only to fall silent and pale a little as he caught sight of Stiles’ face. The group on the porch couldn’t see what he saw, but the Sherriff held Derek back with one hand as he frantically whispered to him that interfering now might risk Stiles’ life.

“I need a bullet. One of the Wolfsbane bullets. I need it now. Give it to me. Please!”

Even John shivered at the sound of his son’s voice. It was cold. It was dangerous. It was... raw power.

“I don’t know who you think you are sonny but...”  
“Bullet. Now. Stop talking and give me a bullet or I will stop being nice”

One of the men further back must have felt safer with his buddies in front of him; he raised his rifle and shot at Stiles.

Derek and the Sherriff were frozen in horror for a second. Allison drew a dagger from her thigh sheath and prepared to throw it. From inside the house could be heard Melissa’s scream and a shout from Lydia.

Stiles’ hand, which had been outstretched in a gesture of peremptory demand twitched slightly and in the moonlight everyone could see, caught between his fingers... a bullet.  
Stiles turned to his friends and father as they stood, still frozen with shock on the porch of the lake house and casually tossed the bullet to Allison. 

“Burn it, it will work”

He turned back to the Hunters who were also still frozen. He tilted his head slightly to one side as he frowned at them.

“Thanks for the bullet”

The Hunters seemed to be in shock.

Allison ran into the house bearing the bullet.   
The Sherriff and Derek found themselves unwilling to do anything but watch as they noticed movement behind the Hunters and their vehicles.   
It was darker back there, under the trees, and therefore harder to see details but... but they could just make out...   
they could make out...

“Oh my God” John gasped as he realised that it was getting darker around the Hunters too.

“I’m not very happy with you though” Stiles’ tone was almost bored “You hurt my friends. You were rude. My friends aren’t happy with you either”

Those waiting on the porch could hear it as the Hunters began to panic, but they could no longer see them.

“Take a little time to think about your life choices”

Derek could sense the Sherriff’s heart pounding in his chest. He could feel his own heart racing.

Stiles’ pulse was rock steady... almost slower than normal.

“Not too long though”

Stiles turned away and walked back to the house. He seemed calm.  
Allison came running back outside.

“It’s working. He’s already calmer. Melissa has removed the bullet and...Holy Shit!”

Allison was staring past Stiles as he climbed the stairs to them.

“Better tell Chris and the others to wait till the road is clear” Stiles said softly. “I’m going to go lie down for a while, ok?”

Allison and John stood staring at the scene before them. Derek followed Stiles.  
The Sherriff cleared his throat.

“Well... The Two Towers always was Stiles’ favourite movie in the trilogy”


	7. Who Do You Think You Are?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles fulfills a promise.  
> Derek is a domestic Goddess.  
> Stiles is... yeah, what the heck is a Stiles? People ask that a lot don't they? The answer is... ooohweee!  
> Deaton causes spit-takes  
> Scott shows a better attitude  
> Claudia Stilinski turns out to be a great big faker... sort of  
> There is much talk of pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just go with the flow people - I forgot that many on this site wouldn't be used to my style (or lack thereof) and my guiding principles.  
> An oversimplified and WAY incomplete list would include  
> 1\. People reading this are assumed to be smart and able to work things out or use their imaginations.  
> 2\. Nothing is ever really a red herring (unless it is)  
> 3\. Sometimes something mentioned in Chapter 2 means nothing till Chapter 57 (or vice versa)  
> 4\. Googlies and Wikidepides are lovely friends to have when trolling thru my forests  
> 5\. I write in sound and dialogue (and sometimes movies) - treat most vignettes as episodes of The West Wing or Gilmore Girls (ie LOTS OF DIALOGUE AND TALKING OVER AND AROUND)

“Is he alright?” Melissa was whispering but she knew Derek would hear her.

Derek sighed and nodded slightly, although his face stayed sombre.

The sun had risen more than an hour earlier, and was finally high enough to directly illuminate the small meadow which lay between the lake below and the top of the hill the house was built on. Stiles had risen with the sun, showered and changed into loose fitting clothes and had made himself a cup of tea and gone out to ‘look at the lake’. As people had begun rising they had noted his presence but felt uncomfortable about disturbing him. The unexpected visitors, Scott, Isaac, Chris and Peter had squeezed into other rooms, or found space on sofas or even (in Peter’s case) curled up on one of the loungers on the porch. Peter had explained that the weather was still far too warm for sleeping outside to bother a wolf.

Everyone had gradually filtered through the house from various rooms and bathrooms until finally gathered in the huge dining room. Lydia had somehow found sufficient casual clothing for everyone to be able to change and be comfortable. No one was brave enough to ask her if she always kept several sets of clothing on hand for similar emergencies.

Similarly no one was brave enough to encroach on Stiles’ special spot as the slender young man leaned back against a young but sturdy spruce which was the only plant other than occasional wildflowers to spoil the perfect surface of the lawn which led from the veranda to the steps leading to the boathouse.

“That’s odd” Allison had murmured “I must have missed seeing that tree last night with the distraction from the lake”  
“It wasn’t there until this morning” Lydia sighed “Stiles said not to worry about her, she’ll be back where she belongs tomorrow”

Deaton had raised not one, but both eyebrows at that. Scott had almost breathed in his entire coffee at the sight of his mentor being so demonstrative.

“How is he Derek?” John asked the brooding wolf. “Has he said anything? Did he get any sleep at all?”  
“A little” Derek murmured “He cried a lot. He hasn’t said anything yet, except to Lydia, about the tree”  
“I hope he’s... where is he?” Melissa was not panicking.

The sound and smell of something cooking began to filter through the door from the dining room.  
Derek hurried into the kitchen and a few minutes later the others heard pans clanking and oven doors being opened and shut. Lydia and Jackson, without seeming to communicate at all spread a cloth onto the large table, and began setting plates and cutlery out. It was a testament to the Martin Family’s entertaining experience that not only were there enough plates and glasses for everyone, but the table could fit them all, with only minimal squeezing. The smells from the doorway gradually got more and more delicious. Several minutes after the wolves were certain they were going to die from sensory overload, Derek and Stiles came in bearing several large trays filled with bacon, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes, toast, scrambled eggs and an enormous warming dish piled high with pancakes. Lydia and Allison ducked past them as they came in to gather up pitchers of freshly squeezed orange juice, as well as all the various condiments and accompaniments expected with any fine breakfast feast.

“No shop talk till we’re done” Lydia stated calmly.  
“I’ll do the dishes so you can talk. Derek can fill me in later” Peter offered.

Lydia did not smile at the man, but her frostiness was markedly lessened as she sat down.

“I’ll help” Isaac said smiling at Stiles reassuringly.

The meal was quiet, but delicious. As Peter and Isaac were assisted in the clearing away by Melissa and a press-ganged Scott, Stiles went over to the corner to check how Danny was coping.

“I’m fine now Stiles” the smiling boy was... smiling as usual “the bullet missed the bone, missed the artery and once it was removed I was halfway to healed really. The only big problem was the poison and you got the cure for that, so... thanks!”

“Can we talk shop now?” Sherriff Stilinski asked their hostess politely. She nodded.  
“Let’s take it into the living room” Stiles said as he practically bolted into the adjoining room.

A few minutes later everyone except the kitchen volunteers were perched on seats or sprawled on rugs around the large living/entertaining area which dominated much of the lower floor of the house.  
Derek was sitting in a huge wingback chair near the fireplace, with Stiles practically wrapped around him. Once everyone was seated Deaton was the first to speak.

“Have Stiles’ blood results come back yet?”

Melissa shook her head and looked at her watch. “Any time I expect; Arnie said he’d post them to me last thing before leaving, and his shift is just finishing now”  
Deaton nodded. “I’ve found a few things, but I can’t really explain them. I have some suspicions, but I would like to ask a few questions first. That way I won’t be muddying the waters with things that don’t help us see a clear picture”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Sherriff, Stiles, I’m afraid I will have to ask you about some very painful memories...”  
“You’ll want to know about Claudia” The Sherriff was pale and sadness filled his eyes, but his jaw was strong. “If it helps my son I’ll do anything; and really, I should get over my pain about losing her. Because it has always hurt so much to talk or even think about her, Stiles has missed out on so many happy memories and stories about her. I’ve been so busy grieving; I forgot to be grateful for what time we did have”

Melissa, sitting beside him on one of the long sofas squeezed his hand supportively.

“Thank you Sherriff. I’ve done some research into your family history as well. It may surprise you to know that many of your Polish and Norwegian ancestors were well acquainted with the supernatural world. There have even been a few Stilinski Druids and even a Mage, although the most recent practitioner of magic died in 1897”  
“No Stiles, we can ask what the difference is later, and who it was, for now, let’s just concentrate on you” Lydia had spotted Stiles’ excitement before he had a chance to speak.

“I could find very little about Claudia Stilinski. Even the maiden name on the marriage certificate was a dead end as far as normal records go”  
“What was it?” Danny asked, firing up his laptop from where he was leaning into Jackson as the blond supplemented the painkillers Melissa had already provided with a wolfy touch.  
“Idunna, I think she said it was Swedish, or maybe Norwegian?” John was smiling sadly “She said she was from a bit of a mongrel family; they had members and names from almost all corners of the world. Her middle name was Greek, I think, and the name Claudia is from... France?”  
“I think Claude is the Latin origin, but the feminine name is certainly a common French one” Chris nodded.  
“What was her middle name? “Danny asked, his fingers already flying.

“Melinda? No! Meliae!” Sherriff Stilinski spelled the names out for Danny. “She didn’t like to use it. It’s funny really; she seemed to hate her weird names, but she insisted on naming Stiles along her family traditions, I think she said his first name was after he father, who was either Irish or Scottish, she was never really clear on that point herself. Even when he was a baby she was the only one who could pronounce it even close to the right way; well her and the old lady next door who baby-sat him sometimes. Neither of them ever really used it anyway, they both called him ‘Pip’ for some reason. In the end when he went to pre-school he came home the first day in tears about being teased about his name and from then on insisted we call him ‘Stiles’. Claudia seemed perfectly happy to do so, despite her insistence on the name in the first place”.  
“What is it?” Lydia was dying to know  
“It’s impossible” Scott groaned, “No human tongue can get it right”.  
“For once I agree with you” Jackson nodded.  
“Wait?” Isaac and Peter were just coming into the room after their washing up “You know Stiles’ real name?”

Jackson blushed for some strange reason and looked guilty.

“He was the one who made my first day of school a living hell; in fact the first month of school was hell” Stiles was so wrapped up by Derek’s arms that it was hard to tell which bit was him and which was Derek. “I’ve never worked out why you started that whole campaign you know”.  
“Jealousy” Jackson muttered, but refused to hide his face from the stares of the group “I was always so jealous of you. You were so confident, so smart. All I had was my looks and my parents’ money. You didn’t have either of those and yet you always were so popular. I was just being a jerk”  
“Are you seriously apologising to me now? In front of everyone?”  
“I owe you Stilinski. You’ve saved my life how many times? You saved Lydia. You saved Danny. You hate me, but you saved me not once but over and over and over again. After the whole Kanima thing; you were the only person apart from these two and Derek who called me to see if I was ok. You did more than that. You sat me down in a circle of Mountain Ash and refused to let me out until I had agreed that it wasn’t my fault or something I was responsible for. I just... I owe you”  
“Friends don’t owe each other for having their backs” Stiles smiled “But you are still a douchebag”  
“Skinny spaz”  
“Flirt later!” Danny said, concentrating on the screen in front of him “I need more info to go on”

“I like this one! Can we keep him?”  
Derek just growled at Peter’s remark.

“I can’t find any records of her in the most obvious systems. What was her date of birth?”

The Sherriff related his knowledge of the relevant dates.

“Ok...”Danny was frowning “I’ve found some records, but it’s little more than just... it’s just what we already had. It’s like she was using a false... She wasn’t in the witness protection program was she?”  
“I’d have thought she’d tell me”  
“I looked up the meaning of those names” Danny added “Before I tell you, let me compare Stiles’ name too. See if it does fit”

Stiles just buried his face in Derek’s chest and waved a ‘go ahead’ gesture at his father.

“His first name is... hang on, I’ll try to pronounce it, then I’ll spell it for you”  
Stiles groaned.

“I’ve always thought Claudia had just cobbled together words from her family history and made up a name, but she insisted it had meaning. Somewhere along the way I’ve forgotten where the breaks should be, but as a single word it’s Ceannnagcrann”  
“Oh my lord” Allison squeaked “Sorry Stiles!”

Stiles just waved his shame away.  
Danny was typing into his computer, when Deaton suddenly drew a gasp.

“Doc?” Stiles shot up and stared at the man. “What? You know something! That’s the most excited I have ever seen you, and I was there when Scott almost burned down the surgery trying to dry his hair after a dog peed on him”  
“His middle name is even worse” the Sherriff sighed.  
“Worse?” Isaac was horrified.  
“At least people can sort of say that abomination, and type it into a database field” Stiles sighed “My middle name is impossible to type unless you use some weird fonts or write it by hand. Mom always said my ultimate Grandparent was the first person to have the name, but I still hate it. She made me a little necklace with a rune carved in the wood once. She said it was the original spelling and then she laughed a lot. We both loved her dearly, but she could be pretty damn weird sometimes.”

“I thought Mrs Robertson made you that necklace”  
“No, she gave me the chain when she saw me hanging it around my neck with string. Mom made the pendant herself”  
“Did she use her damned tree?”  
“Tree?” Deaton was all ears.

“As well as all the amazing gardens Mom planted, she had her special tree”  
“She planted it the day we got back from our honeymoon in Greece. She said it was her family tradition when one of their children found the place she wanted to ‘set her roots down’ in.”  
“That’s where she got it from, her mom’s farm I think? Did she Dad?”

“Yep! The day we got back I popped in to work to check in with the Sherriff at the time and grab a copy of my roster, and by the time I got back, she’d planted that apple in the back yard, right up near the fence to Mrs Robertson’s yard and was already knee deep in weeding her vegetable patch”

“Apple?” Deaton was going pale, quite a feat for a man of his colouring.

“Amazing apples! She’d make pies, baked apples, teacakes, sauce, chutneys... it bore so much fruit it was ridiculous” Stiles was smiling now.  
“I remember those!” Scott interjected “They really were amazing guys! Sometimes, if I’d had a really bad asthma attack, or was feeling sick, Mrs Stilinski would make me an apple turnover, or even just a bowl of applesauce; always made me feel better!”  
“What happened to the tree? I can’t recall seeing an apple tree in your yard?” Peter said carefully.

“It died just after Mom did. We had to get someone to come and dig it out”  
“I thought it died after Mrs Robertson died?” Scott said slowly.  
“Mrs Robertson?” Isaac was losing track.

“She used to baby sit me sometimes; Scott too if he was over. She was a funny little Scottish lady, or maybe Irish? She had a garden almost as good as Mom’s. She died about a year before Mom got sick. Her nephew inherited her house. Boy was he a shithead!”  
“Stiles!”  
“Sorry Dad, but he was. He tore up all her lovely gardens because of his ‘hay fever’. His allergies never stopped him smoking those horrible cigars though; whenever the wind blew from that direction it used to set off Scott’s asthma.”  
“We still shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”  
“He died too? When?” Chris was looking more interested too now.  
“A couple of months after Claudia I think?”  
“Oh! Was he the bee guy?” Isaac recalled something from his childhood now.  
“Hornets” John nodded “He was clearing out his guttering one afternoon and he must have disturbed a hornet’s nest up there; the medical examiner couldn’t rule whether the 300 or so stings he received or the fall from the ladder was what killed him.”  
“I still say he deserved it!” Stiles grumbled “I know it was him who cut those branches off Mom’s tree and threw them over the fence. I wouldn’t put it past him to have poisoned it or something. You know it started getting sick just after she did.”

Deaton had to sit down.

“Oh Shit!” Danny exclaimed, causing everyone to turn to him.  
Lydia demanded to know what he had found and he showed her the windows he had open. Lydia’s eyes widened.  
Melissa felt her pocket buzz and she immediately downloaded the results that she had just received. Her frown made everyone even more worried.

“Melissa? What’s wrong? What’s wrong with Stiles’ blood?” John was biting his lip.  
“Either someone has made a mistake, or someone has tried to poison him, I think? I really don’t know what explanation there could be for this otherwise”  
“Let me guess” Deaton rumbled “The tests have found the presence of something foreign in his mitochondrial DNA?”  
“Yes” Melissa was nodding “I got them to test everything. His blood chemistry is within normal parameters except for that.”  
“What does that mean?” Sherriff Stilinski was getting very agitated now.

“What was found?” Deaton seemed to be waiting for an expected answer.  
“Chloroplasts”  
“That explains the name” Danny and Lydia said almost as one.  
“What’s a chloropaste?” Scott asked.  
“Chloroplast!” Peter snapped “A collection of organelles found in the cells of most plants and algae which contain the chlorophyll that allows the plant to photosynthesise!”

Everyone was staring at Peter now.

“Before I went into Corporate Law I dabbled with Environmental Law. I did a minor in Ecological Science as part of my degree at Columbia.”  
“You went to Columbia?” Stiles exclaimed.  
“Stiles! Focus!” his Dad snapped.

“So Stiles has some sort of plant stuff growing inside him? Like an infection?” Scott was seriously worried for his friend.  
“No” Melissa said “Stiles has normal human mitochondria, but they also contain materials that usually only plants have”  
“Stiles is a human” Deaton said calmly, “But at the same time, he is also a plant.”  
“Is that why I felt less hungry after sitting in the sun this morning?”

“Stiles! That’s not possible! I may not be a Druid or a Scientist or anything like that, but I know that humans and plants are not even related closely enough for that to be possible.” John was so confused.

“It’s perfectly possible” Deaton said “If your mother was a Dryad”

“Tell them the rest” Lydia was paler than normal.  
“What does she mean?” John was terrified now.  
“Stiles, is you middle name this?” Danny showed him the writing on the screen as well as the picture of a series of runes below it.  
“Yeah, that’s the bastard! And the rune on my necklace was the rightmost of those three!”

Deaton nodded slowly.

“Stiles’ first name is Gaelic, I think, and means ‘Ruler of Trees’.”  
“Three of the five programs I used translate it more closely as ‘Speaker For or maybe With Trees’.” Danny added.  
“The family name Claudia chose to use is definitely of Norse origin” Deaton sighed “Idunn was the Goddess of Fertility and Eternal Youth in Asgard; she tended the sacred fruit which granted immortality and unending youth to those who ate it.”  
“Let me guess” Chris sighed “Apples?”

Deaton smiled wanly.

“It gets more interesting. Stiles’ middle name, that Claudia said belonged to his ultimate ancestor, the name and that rune mean ‘Ash’.”  
“Like Mountain Ash?” Jackson asked.  
“Different species, Mountain Ash isn’t actually an Ash at all; it’s more related to the Rose than... sorry...” Stiles sank back and shut up.

“So who was Stiles’ Grandfather? Or was it Grandmother?” Isaac wrinkled his brow.  
“With trees it’s probably both” Deaton said “In this case, it is the Ultimate Ash; also known as Yggdrasil, or ‘The World Tree’; the foundation upon which the entire universe is supposed to hang.”

Allison sighed.  
“And I thought my grandparents were a problem”

,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm a Surprise END NOTE! YAY!!!!! Here to offer some hints on the above schmozzle.  
> Claudia's last name is explained in the text above. Her middle name is MELIAE, or "Ash Maiden", the nymphs who were born from and/or tended the World Ash (depending on your chosen legend)  
> Stiles middle name is best written as Æsc Look it up on wikip and you'll be able to spot the rune he mentions too.  
> Oh, and remember - even a short comment is encouraging, but long detailed ones get me going with the writing etc! (Should I think about a series for this? It was just a silly idea I had, but it seems to be working ok!)  
> Oh, and a final thing - I usually have NO IDEA where a story is headed or what happens next (Seriously!), I write another chapter so I can find out for myself too!  
> (and yes, I did have a bit of a freakout when I read those bits too!)


	8. Are Things Getting Strange, Or Is it Just Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets a call  
> Scott gets a shock  
> Jackson gets a kiss  
> Stiles gets reassured  
> Peter gets his flirt on  
> Names get dropped  
> Poison Oak gets itchy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, this was NOT what I had in my head, but this is what arrived on the screen.  
> I'm not sure, but I think the Plot Bunnies who live in my head like the idea of a series, so this sort of just ENDS, I think there's a new arc coming.  
> Apparantly my Plot Bunnies also think I need to add more tags to a new series, you'll see the problem when you read the names being dropped.  
> sigh... crossovers... way to go simple and easy plot bunny, way to go  
> I might throw a couple of unrelated one shots into the mix, so I can "cleanse my mental palatte" a bit, but saying that I'll probably wake up at 4am with 30,000 words typed and no idea what I've been doing (don't laugh, that has actually happened!)  
> Reviews and stuff are always thing etc

“Well, I think we’ve all learned something new here today...”

“Shut up Stiles” Lydia was surrounded by open books and three laptop screens and was in no mood for a pity party.

Scott, Isaac and Peter were returning to town to keep an eye on things and, in Scott’s case, to go to work. Chris had been talking quietly to Allison, almost livid with rage over the healing bruises on her face and had shocked everyone when he went out to the car, transferred several large boxes from his trunk to Allison’s trunk and then tossed his keys to Peter.

“Could you water the Wolfsbane in the greenhouse and make sure the alarms are reset when you leave” He asked politely. “Make sure you use the damned suit this time you moron”  
“Suit?” Scott was confused (as usual)  
“Hazmat suit, so I don’t collapse and die inconveniently in the yard”  
“Even we have to wear it most of the time” Allison chimed in “Especially if we have some of the rarer strains due for harvesting”  
“You grow your own Wolfsbane?” Melissa was impressed.  
“Of course!” Chris seemed puzzled by the surprise “It’s not like you can get it at a florist or even at Whole Foods. We need it to make our special ammo.”  
“That’s why the Greenhouse is built next to the Smithy and not connected to the house” Allison explained “Fumes you know.”  
“How many strains have you got?” Stiles was always curious.  
“We tend to use the same ones mostly, so we can know what to expect...” Chris was interrupted by his phone suddenly ringing. His frown told everyone he was not expecting any calls.

“Argent”

Chris noted the curiosity on the faces of the wolves and pulled a small device from his top pocket.

“Hang on a moment, I’m not secure.”  
He pushed the button and all the wolves winced slightly, then looked curious, but for a different reason. Peter just rolled his eyes and went out to load the car.

“Go ahead”  
...  
“It is an honour to speak with you too sir”  
...  
“You did? Where...”  
...  
“I... I see...”  
...  
“I was already planning on doing that sir. Matriarch Malvinas is our closest member”  
...  
“Yes, I do sir”  
...  
“The witnesses include my daughter sir; She is the Argent now”  
...  
“We’ve already made contact. I was going to suggest at least a Level Two interdiction.”  
...  
“I’ll inform her sir.”  
...  
“I think he would be most receptive to that sir, but only if everything remained open and transparent; He’s not one to appreciate subterfuge or...”  
...  
“He has his own Code sir, and yes, yes I would.”  
...  
“Yes, with her’s too. She is probably safer with him than with me to be perfectly honest.”  
...  
“I do sir, but I can’t ever let him know that. My life would be a worse hell than...”  
...  
“Yes he is”  
...  
“I will sir. Perhaps in a week or so?”  
...  
“Thankyou sir. Au revoir”

 

Everyone in the house was now in the living room, staring at Chris.

“That was the current Chair of the Hunter’s Council. He has received some representations from the Elders of the Macintyre Family, as well as some new information.”  
“Let me guess. The Hunter’s I killed were from the Macintyre family?” 

Stiles seemed to pale and tense. Derek was beside him in a second, his Dad was not far behind. John slipped an arm around his son’s far too tense shoulders while Derek slipped one arm around his waist and pulled him slightly closer to his own body.

“They were Stiles,” Chris sighed, “Or rather, they are; although the Patriarch of the family isn’t too happy with his nephew and his buddies so that could be changing once they get home.”  
Stiles’ head shot up from where it had been drooping lower and lower.  
“ARE?”

“They’re not dead?”  
John breathed a huge sigh. He had been upset, not by Stiles’ actions, but by the pain his actions had caused the young man. Stiles was his son, and he knew him well; he knew that although some might accuse Stiles of being a psychopath because he didn’t hesitate to do anything to save his friends, even kill, he did not do so without harming himself. Even knowing that it was almost guaranteed to give him more nightmares and more guilt to weigh himself down with, Stiles would always do what was needed. 

“No, they were found, naked and bruised and surrounded by the tiny, shredded remains of their vehicles in the middle of a forest. Every one of them was also suffering from exposure and the worst case of poison oak that the local doctor had ever seen. It was quite upsetting for the doctor, since there is no poison oak in that forest; it’s not even native to that country.”  
“Country?” Even Peter goggled at that. “Which country?”  
“They were found by park rangers near the eastern edge of the Plitvice National Park in Croatia; about 2 miles from the border with Bosnia-Herzegovina”  
“Europe? I sent them to Eastern EUROPE?????”  
“The important thing is Stiles that you didn’t kill them” Derek whispered in his ear, “So you can stop beating yourself up about that”  
“I was still willing to kill them” Stiles said sadly “That’s the bad part”

“I was willing to kill them!” Melissa snapped, drawing a protest from Scott. “Oh stop with the moral high ground Scott! You weren’t here to see what they’d done to Danny. I don’t think killing is right, but given the choice between killing them and letting them kill us, I would shoot the crap out of them”  
“No Mom! There’s always a better choice!”  
“No there isn’t Scott!” even Allison was exasperated with him “I love that you think that, but it’s just not true. Not for every person or every circumstance.”  
“Being willing to kill to defend yourself or others doesn’t make you a bad person Scott” John tried to explain “It just makes you survive.”  
“Killing is wrong!” Scott had the stubborn look on his face.  
“They were going to rape Allison!” Danny exclaimed “And probably me too! Then they were going to kill us and hide our bodies so they wouldn’t get in trouble for shooting me. We ran away Scott. We chose to run away and then THEY FOLLOWED US!”  
“They would almost certainly have tried to kill everyone in the house to hide their mistake” Chris said sadly “the Macintyre Patriarch has already had most of the individuals involved on a final warning for violating the code or just causing trouble.”  
“But killing them...”  
“No one is asking you to approve and celebrate a murder spree you self-righteous asshole!” 

Jackson could take no more  
“Just stop being Little Miss Morals every time someone who doesn’t have your speed, your strength or your ability to heal has to use force to protect themselves every time YOU leave them in the lurch!”  
“What are you talking about...?” Scott began.  
“Stiles! We’ve all noticed or heard about it! First you almost kill him because you won’t listen to his warning about your change; then you go to that damned party, despite his warnings, and when you have to leave he’s there to be kidnapped by Pedo the Crazy Psychopath!”

Peter muttered something about preferring his prime beef well aged, leering so generally that Chris, John and Danny all felt slightly violated. 

“And where were you for most of the time I was wandering around being a murder weapon? He had to hold Derek up in that damned pool for hours because YOU were too busy playing footsie under the table to bother coming when he called you!”  
“He didn’t tell me he was...”  
“He used the words ‘Scott, I’m in trouble and I need help’ and you hung up on him!”  
“How do you know that?” Scott asked, confused.  
“I was THERE!” Jackson cried “I was there! Inside that thing! I could hear and see everything, but I couldn’t move on my own. At the time I didn’t know who or what I was, but in the dreams since...”

Danny and Lydia just hugged him until his tears subsided.

Scott was quiet, and seemed to be actually thinking.

“Let’s leave this Boss Fight alone and come back to it once we’ve all levelled up a bit” Peter snarked as he winked at Isaac and they then proceeded to drag Scott out to the car and drove away in a crunch of gravel.

“He’s going to change my presets again” Chris sighed.

“Are you ok Jackson?” Stiles asked carefully.  
“Don’t you dare feel guilty about protecting the people you love from harm Stilinski!” the blond was still red-eyed but had calmed a little “Because killing to protect people is way different from murder. Trust me on this”  
“You are not a murderer!” Stiles said, frowning, “Even the stinky sticky-lizard wasn’t a murderer. Matt was the killer, and Gerard. You were used against your will. Do I have to make another circle?”  
Jackson just rolled his eyes and Lydia and Danny kissed him on each cheek, which made him roll his eyes again, with a blush this time.  
“Is this the point where I can change the subject?” Stiles asked the room. “Because I’m really curious about the subject of Chris’s conversation with Super-Hunter and what the heck a level 2 interdiction might entail. Especially if it’s us who might be dicted in the inter”  
“Was that meant to be a sex joke Stilinski? Because if it was it was pretty lame” Jackson was back in form.  
“Bite me you cheap knock-off Godzilla!”  
“I don’t eat trees Hidden Valley! I’m not a beaver!”  
“Really? That’s pretty funny, because most people are convinced you are a total pu...”  
“Stiles!”His dad stopped him before things could go further.

“Sorry Dad”

Only Lydia and Derek noticed the twinkling glance shared between Stiles and Jackson; only Danny noticed the tiny smile that twitched across Jackson’s face.  
“Level 2 Interdiction is the step above what currently occurs in Beacon Hills.” Chris decided to keep what he had observed his own secret, although he did seem to be slightly warmer towards Jackson than his previous ice-cold.

“We have Level 1?” Stiles was back on track.  
“No, we have Level 3. Level three means that a Hunter Family is in permanent residence in the location and other Hunters must contact them when entering the locality, preferably in advance of their arrival.”  
“That’s worked out so well so far” Stiles muttered.  
“It’s not perfect, I admit, but it’s better than nothing” Chris grumbled.  
“I don’t think I’ve actually properly thanked you for your efforts Chris and Allison” Derek rumbled.  
The look on Allison’s face was a strange mix of surprise and pride.  
“So if we’re moving to Level 2, what can we expect?” John asked

“Level 2 is usually called for places where, and please excuse the somewhat medieval nomenclature here, a ‘power or dominion resides’ and usually controls or polices the supernatural themselves. Sometimes they will allow Hunters to enter or even live there, but usually under strict neutrality or non-violence provisions. New York City is like that, and London. Often they are places where something or someone very powerful or very dangerous has staked a claim. Level 2 means that Hunters all know that if they cause problems, their families will disavow and probably disown them, should they survive.”  
“Why is New York interdicted?” Melissa wondered.  
“Even the Were community knows not to mess with New York” Derek spoke softly, a slight sadness in his voice. “Laura took us there because it was safe from Kate and Gerard. Not even they would dare annoy the Power that watches over that city.”

“Do you mean the Super-Heroes?” Stiles asked.  
“And the Government Agencies” Chris agreed, “SHIELD or the Avengers would be bad enough, but most of the Supernatural visitors or residents in New York are more terrified of annoying Strange.”  
“Strange?” Melissa had heard that name somewhere...  
“The Sorcerer Supreme” Deaton suddenly speaking reminded everyone of his presence; most of them jumped a little, even Jackson. “Not a person to trifle with”  
“Just Doctor Strange living there would be more than enough to justify a Level 2 Interdiction”

“Are there any Level 1 places?” Stiles asked curiosity ablaze in his eyes.  
“Level 1 means that no Hunter or member of a Hunter Family who is ‘in the know’ is permitted to enter at all without the express invitation of those within. At the moment there is only one place, in Tibet, or possibly Nepal? It has many names and many locations it seems”  
“Shangri-La?” Stiles was buzzing now.  
“So why do you and the Hunter Council think Beacon Hills needs to be placed on the Interdicted list?” John asked, trying to keep his enthusiastic son on track.  
“Stiles of course?” Chris grunted.

“Me?”

“Stiles!” Lydia sighed, “You somehow transported seventeen men and five large vehicles more than six THOUSAND miles without getting more than a little sleepy. You animated an unknown but large number of trees most of which were at least ninety feet tall! You summoned Naiads!”  
“But I have no real idea what I’m doing!”

Chris sighed.  
“And both of those facts are why the Council really, really wants to avoid annoying you.”


End file.
